A Poisoned Woman
by SherlockChlo
Summary: Mrs Hudson's granddaughter comes to live at 221B (I know she doesn't even have kids...). Could Sherlock fall in love with her? Will he be able to save her from something natural? Jim Moriarty has something to say about their relationship, so what will he do to help her? Sorry.. I can't write summaries.
1. Chapter 1

_**Welcome and thank you for clicking upon this even though it had the World's worst summary ever! I have to say that this is one of the worst things and longest things that I've ever written, so enjoy it... I hope you do. **_

_**A Poisoned Woman**_

_Irene Adler had always been Sherlock Holmes' love interest. She excited him and made him very curious, because in many ways, she was a female version of himself. And that entertained him in his own way. He never admitted that fact to anyone, including his dear friend John Watson, but it was plain to everyone and they subtly knew it. He had never swoon around a woman in such a way, as he had done with Irene. Even Molly Hooper, who he saw a lot of the time in his life, had been hit by the insults that women would receive if they tried to get close to his heart. However with 'The Woman' he was a completely different man. Trying to impress her with his massive intellect, was his only moral when she was placing her hands all over his shoulders. His speech muddled sometime sin her presence, as her pupils dilated when he was near. But, when one day a rather interesting woman came into his life, he forgot all about Irene Adler and her games. His new interest went by the name of Scarlett Hines. To John, she was known as 'The New Woman'. But Scarlett's time is running out, can Sherlock help her before her time runs does truly end? Or will everything end in disaster for John and Sherlock's friendship?_

_**Chapter 1**_

_**Scarlett Hines**_

Scarlett Hines sat quiet, dark and alone on a train that would hopefully take her to a new and better life than the one she had throughout her childhood. She was heading towards London, a place where she had never visited let alone lived in before, and was looking forward to exploring when she arrived. Well, that was her positive attitude before she boarded the train. As soon as the train sped away from a station somewhere in Devon she hated the thought of London. Her journey was boring and made her want to shout at everyone around her; leading her to the conclusion that she wouldn't very much like London which was full of people. The countryside was dull and plain, filled with animals that were raised to either give birth, or go to the slaughter house in the last few moments of their life. "Dull. Boring." She sighed at everything the voice on the train said, even though she rarely paid attention to it any way. She watched the World go by as if it were a movie that she was being forced to watch; her head fixed on the trees as they zoomed past her eyes. This experience wasn't new to her though. Throughout her life, Scarlett had been carted onto a train back and forth between her parents. Her mother living in Devon and her father in Portsmouth. It wasn't that hard to reach the other, but neither parent really wanted to waste a few hours by driving to their daughter's second home. A place where they had to see the other half of the parenting. They had split when she was 2 years-old hoping to prevent her from hearing arguments and crying in the night when she grew up. She didn't miss that in her life; it was still there in the worst of moments. At the end of every month she would be shipped off to the other parent, each time wanting them to actually spend some time with her for once. Neither of her parents really cared about their daughter's well-being. They didn't care about her at all, considering the year she was being bullied they both allowed it to continue. She was transport to them. Something that would remind them of the other, and they didn't want that. Now Scarlett Hines was making her own way through life, trying to find a better place for herself. Her first attempt was in London. Her aunt lived there for many years and now it was where her grandmother lived. She was a landlady on Baker Street and had offered for Scarlett to come and live with her. Naturally Scarlett accepted. She didn't want to put up with her parents any more and she was sure that they were happy she was gone. Her parents didn't care about her, so why should she have to put up with them.

At 12:00 Scarlett made her way off of the train. Her body was tired, but she was determined not to show it. The open air was fresh on her face; for once she enjoyed it. London was modern and full of life to her as she strolled through the ever-growing crowds. Although Scarlett didn't like people very much, she would allow everyone to brush against her for the moment. Eventually, her anger started to build up though, she had never had to walk in the middle of so many people before. For her, Devon had always been quiet. Mrs Hudson, her grandmother, had sent her a text a couple of hours previously telling her that an average height blonde man by the name of John Watson was waiting for her at the station entrance under the clock. Scarlett didn't know how she'd recognise him, but she knew that when the time came she would find the right man. Walking through the station she looked every person that past her up and down, picking out the pieces of their character that she could deduce from what they were doing. After walking for several minutes towards the exit of the station she spotted a man with a tight holding frame. His hair was a deep blonde, the ends a slight grey. He held himself very well, Scarlett guessed that it was due to previous war experience. His clothing was dull to her. Jumpers and trousers were not her thing. As she walked towards him she started to hear his breathing, it was heavy. It was obvious that he didn't like places like this because he would prefer to be at home. Either that or he was worried about someone at home. It could have been either. He turned to her and smiled as she approached. With a slight wave he moved towards her and took her bag. "Scarlett Hines, I presume?" He held out his hand to her, hoping that she would take it. "John Watson." She smiled and nodded taking his hand slowly. "I thought you'd be smaller, just look at Mrs Hudson." Scarlett let out a small chuckle, she didn't know whether she'd like John, but he was nice for the moment.

"I presumed that you'd be taller." Scarlett joked back at him. She could see that John would be easy to get along with. "My nan told me that she had two men living with her. Are you two together?" John knew that this conversation would come up. Mrs Hudson had always thought that he and Sherlock were together so it was no surprise that she had told Scarlett about it.

"No. Sherlock and I just live together and work together. Solving crimes that the police can't handle." John was vague in his response due to the same question being asked so many times to him. "How old are you? Mrs Hudson never mentioned."

Scarlett had to think before she gave her response. She was older at heart than she was truly. Most people said that her mind and heart were older than her body, as if she was alive far before she was born. "Oh. I'm 20. I'm going to study Forensic Pathology at Bart's Hospital. Do you know it?" John smiled.

"Of course I know it. It's where I studied before leaving to join the army. I was an army doctor you see..." John started.

"Afghanistan or Iraq?" Scarlett interrupted John's train of thought and of speech. She had known from his stance when she had first seen him that he had some army background, so now all she had to do was ask if he'd been to Afghanistan or Iraq.

"Well. Afghanistan." John stopped in the middle of the road and paused his words. "Here we go again." He mumbled to himself. "How did you know that, exactly? My friend asked exactly the same question when he and I met, but I let that one pass" Scarlett smiled at him and then pulled him out of the road, a bus zoomed past them beeping its horn at John. He had been standing right in the way of the traffic.

"You know, John. It's not good to stand in the way of traffic." She started walking again. "My father used to always hold himself in that way. He went to Afghanistan for a few years as a soldier. When he came back I always remember him standing like you do. Walking like you do. Holding himself like you do; in terms of your hair and nails." She was happy with what she remembered from when she was two years old. John wasn't shocked by the things that he was being told. He was shocked because it was from a completely different person from what he was used to.

John could only reply to Scarlett with, "Oh Sherlock is going to love you." and then for the remainder of the walk they were both silent. Not even looking at each other. When they arrived at 221B Baker Street John stood at the door and looked up, he was happy with it. Scarlett liked the look of it from the outside, but would it be suitable for her on the inside?

John knocked 3 times and then stood back off of the step. From inside Scarlett could hear the movements of furniture, the clunk of shoes and the brushing down of what her grandmother wore. Then the door opened. A small woman wearing a flower patterned dress smiled at John pulling him in for a hug. "Hello Doctor Watson. Thank you for picking her up." Mrs Hudson then stepped out of the door and walked forward to her granddaughter. She held out her arms signifying a hug, but Scarlett didn't accept. Instead she shook her hand and walked inside.

"Hello nan." Scarlett said when she made it into 221B. She didn't like personal contact, even from those that she was family with. Mrs Hudson took her coat and led her into the living room. It was very beige. In fact, everything she had was beige. Scarlett didn't like it much, but she thought mentally that she'd have to put up with it whether it was to her taste or not.

"You've met John Watson then. Do you like him?" Mrs Hudson was weary with what she asked the girl because she knew how bad her mother was at this age.

"He's okay I suppose. Bit too boring though. I hope there's more interesting people around London." Scarlett was blunt with her words. She did like John really, but it was in her nature to act like she was blocking everyone else out. That is what she had to do throughout her life. It's not like it was going to change straight away, especially not for someone who lived above her.

"Your father explained to me why you're hear, briefly. What's your side of the story?" Mrs Hudson was confused as to why her granddaughter would want to come and suddenly live with her.

Scarlett didn't answer for a few moments, debating on whether she should tell her grandmother the truth. "Well. I'd had enough of being crated from one to the other. It wasn't good for me in terms of education when I was younger, let alone now." She paused and placed her hand inside her pocket clutching onto a piece of folded paper that was inside. "Also, I've heard that Bart's is a great place to study. You told me that John and, what's the other man's name?" Scarlett had forgotten. She never normally forgot names, but she hadn't met Sherlock yet so she couldn't place the name to his face.

"Sherlock, dear." Mrs Hudson replied quickly.

"Oh. Of course it is. Well. You've told me before that they know a pathologist who works there, so that could benefit me." Scarlett then lowered her head slightly taking the paper out from her pocket and handing it to her grandmother. "I-I got my results, as well. And I figured that it would be good to do something with my life. To keep myself busy. Or to just find a new friend at least," She paused and tried to hold back the tears that had formed in her eyes moments before. "...before it's all over." Her head drooped as Mrs Hudson opened the paper. Her eyes scrolled over the writing and printed words that were inside and then her eyes too filled up with water. They both then reached in and cuddled, gripping each other tighter as the news started to sink in.

Mrs Hudson tried to look at the positives. "John Watson could be that new friend that you want?" She was joking slightly, but inside she wanted her granddaughter to fulfil the things that she had set out to achieve. If it was her goal to gain a new friend then Mrs Hudson would help her in any way she could.

After a few more minutes of the two women crying into each others necks, Mrs Hudson wiped the tears from her cheeks and stood up. "Right. You've met John. Now it's time to meet the other half." Mrs Hudson smiled down at Scarlett before walking to the door.

Scarlett stood up before replying, "Isn't he the man that insured your husband's death?" She was interested in what he could do, but at first she didn't show it. She wanted to make herself look like she was scared of him slightly.

"Yes dear. That's why I let him have the flat upstairs so cheap. Well, they share it out, but it's cheaper than I would charge for someone else." Mrs Hudson smiled again. She was happy that her husband had gone, Scarlett could see it in her face. "Come along, I'm going to take you to meet the man himself." She opened the door and turned back just to say, "Sherlock Holmes."

_**Thank you for reading. I'll post the next chapter either tomorrow or the day after. R&R please! :)**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**What will happen when the two geniuses meet? And how will John react to their deduction skills? Here it is, the next chapter and both parties are practically the same. But who will win the battle? I hope that you enjoy this chapter. Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, except for Scarlett.**_

_**Chapter 2**_

_**Life Story**_

All that Scarlett could hear when she approached the stairs was the sound of a violin playing. She could also hear John's familiar voice shouting at the noise to stop playing, she could tell that he was frustrated by his playing. However, Scarlett enjoyed hearing the tune continue and increasingly grow louder with every step she took up the stairs. Mrs Hudson didn't even knock before entering the flat; she just walked in looking around at the room. "Sherlock, I would like you- to clean up this mess for once." Mrs Hudson's sentence changed half way though because she had seen all of Sherlock's experiments smashed all over the floor. Sherlock hadn't noticed that the two women had arrived until that moment. He smiled at Mrs Hudson's response to the mess on the floor because he had planted it there to see how long it would take for her to notice. Well, that's what he had told John any way. In fact, his experiments had annoyed him because the correct results were not being obtained, so Sherlock smashed them all together in a pile with his riding crop. It was better to use it on the floor instead of on a dead body, surely?

"Hey Scarlett." John popped out from the kitchen and welcomed his new guest. "Sorry, about the mess. I've been trying to get lazy over there to clean it up for days." Sherlock smiled again, he was still facing the window.

"It's an experiment, John." Were the only words that Sherlock could be bothered to say at this current point in time.

"That doesn't mean you have to leave it on the floor, Sherlock. You knew that Mrs Hudson's granddaughter was coming to live here, so pay a little respect." John snapped at the man standing at the window. Sherlock wore his bed clothes and his blue silk dressing gown. "Sorry Scarlett." Sherlock sighed and then turned to face the women. Mrs Hudson had moved to the floor picking up each tiny little piece of glass that was in the pile. John then bent down to help her, considering she wasn't their housekeeper, he thought he better help clean his flat.

Sherlock moved towards Scarlett and held out his hand, "Sherlock Holmes." He gave her fake half smile just to say hello. Scarlett took his hand and replied with, "Scarlett Hines. Nice to meet you?" She made sure that it was a question so that she could see his 'powers' that her grandmother had talked to her about so many times.

Sherlock's eyes looked her up and down, visualising her whole life in his mind fully. "How long do you have?" All three of the other people in the room looked straight at Sherlock questioning his response to Scarlett. He merely shrugged at her.

"A-About seven months." Her voice broke several times. Even though she was putting on being upset, she wanted to try Sherlock's gaze for size. "Yeah. Seven or eight months." Sherlock noticed that she was faking, he was very good at tearing the surface away from people.

"Sherlock. What are you on about?" John had stood up and walked towards where Sherlock stood.

"Dying, John. Scarlett here has had a life of hatred poured upon her. Always travelling from one parent to the other. You're sick of it, aren't you? That's why you're here. To spend your last eight months somewhere different from Devon or Portsmouth." John rolled his eyes in anger, knowing what was coming for Scarlett. She only stood there, arms folded, watching Sherlock's eyes and hand gestures as he took apart her life in front of her. "Oh, you're also studying at Bart's Hospital. Why? Because you're studying to become a Forensic Pathologist. You should meet Molly Hooper, she lets me beat the bodies in the morgue sometimes; it would be good if you allowed me to do that also." Sherlock had started to walk around Scarlett in circles. She wasn't offended by what he was saying; more inquisitive. "Oh. Just look at the state of your nails," Scarlett picked up her hand and looked at each nail in turn. "you bite them almost constantly because there is hardly any growth on them. This could mean that you're nervous but I'm pretty sure that the nervousness links with insecurity. 'What has Scarlett got to be insecure about?' I hear you say. She's got a brain tumour and that is not something to feel great about. But then again, how would I know anything about feelings?" Sherlock walked back to the window. "At best, this 20-year-old whom is soon to celebrate her 21st birthday will not live to 22, she will die a horrible painful death from inside of her own mind." Sherlock turned back towards the others. His face was full of anger, but none of them could understand why. "What? Are you surprised? You found out that you had this tumour minutes before you boarded your train to get here. Am I wrong?" Scarlett stood alone in the middle of the room. Her face was blank form emotion; she had trained herself to to feel many emotions. Especially if she had to be carted from one parent to the other. Instead of replying, Scarlett just nodded. She was impressed with what he was telling her. Apart from the part about her 'painful death'. She knew that wasn't true, but she knew what would happen as she slowly started to lose herself. "There. She's dying. Happy now? I'm glad we cleared the air on that subject." Sherlock stormed into his bedroom locking the door.

John walked towards Scarlett placing his arms around her. "I'm so sorry." He whispered into her ear as they hugged. He held onto her, even though Scarlett really wanted him to let go. Her deep blue eyes rolled, and then John let go. It was almost as if he sensed her frustration. She didn't care that she was dying. In fact she was glad that Sherlock had put it that way; it made it more interesting than the situation actually was. "I told him to lay off." Mrs Hudson had left the flat and made her way back downstairs. "Do you want a cup of tea?" John asked Scarlett as he walked back into the kitchen. Scarlett smiled; she was starting to appreciate John's company. Sherlock, on the other hand, she was fascinated by. How did he know that she had a tumour when nobody had even known until she'd told Mrs Hudson 20 minutes previously.

"Yes please." Scarlett replied as she walked around the room. Sherlock's deductions hadn't phased her at all, she continued on with her own thoughts. Approaching the fireplace she noticed a skull facing to where John was standing. "Did you know that he's spying on you through his skull?" She asked John. He stopped making the tea and looked at her curiously. "Yes. There's a camera in the mouth." Sherlock slammed his laptop lid shut and stomped out of his room.

"Do you mind?" His arms were folded and he had an angry look in his eyes. Scarlett moved away from the skull and raised her hands in the air.

"Don't tell me. Is that another one of your experiments, Sherlock?" John snapped. In all honesty he was sick of Sherlock spying on him all of the time. Sherlock followed him everywhere, placed cameras in his room. "What about your concept of personal space that you love so much? How about I have some for a change?" John shouted at his flat mate. He could see the look of smugness on his face and folded his arms. "Do you know what? I'm going out." John slammed the door behind him, leaving Sherlock and Scarlett alone together.

"I should be going." Scarlett said to Sherlock after a few brief moments of silence between the pair. Sherlock raised his hand to stop her.

"No, it's fine. You can stay. It would be good to know your opinion on what I can do, considering you found that camera within ten minutes of being here, when John didn't notice that I put it there two Christmas' ago." Sherlock smirked at the girl standing across from him. He liked her, and she liked him. They both found the other very interesting indeed. "Do you take sugar?" He smiled before handing her one of the mugs on the side. She shook her head.

"You're crazy." Scarlett blurted out to Sherlock as he sat down in his arm chair.

"Excuse me?" Sherlock was confused. He was used to John complimenting every deduction he made, well nearly every one.

"You knew everything about me. How?" Sherlock's eyes squinted at her slightly, noticing her interest.

"I didn't say everything though did I. I can see the marks on your shoulder, which could be from a sibling, but you don't have one so they were probably made by you. Self harm? Yes. You most likely did it every train ride because that was better than the thought of your parent waiting for you at the other end. Now your phone. You twist it in your hands a lot, most of the time not even noticing that you retrieved it out of your pocket. So, something troubles you subconsciously. You've obviously been doing it for a long time because you've practically deleted any knowledge of you having it in your hand." Scarlett smiled slightly, replacing her phone into her pocket. "Your arms have injection marks on them. This could mean that you've had jabs to go abroad recently. However, I know that you don't like either parent, so a holiday abroad would be out of the question and your skin is very pale. Too pale to signify the past few weeks in which you've had something injected. Also. Injections usually take place in your upper arm not on the inside of your elbow. So what could it be?" He looked at her, asking for the truth.

"Hospital." Sherlock's eyes squinted at her again. Was she lying? "I refuse to have it in my hands. They took blood when I was enquiring about my headaches. The results I received were not what I expected, but I knew I would die young." Scarlett's expression didn't change nor did her head moved. Her eyes were fixed on Sherlock, as his were fixed on her. "You're very interesting." She blurted out.

"As are you." Sherlock lent forward in his chair looking at the girl. She too lent forward. "I'm sure Molly will love you." He stood from where he sat and moved towards his room. "She seems to show that she likes me. And considering we're both interesting to the other." Sherlock walked into his room and locked the door.

"Wait? Molly has feelings for you?" Scarlett laughed following Sherlock to the door. "Should I expect her talking about you a lot and asking questions constantly?" She pressed her head to the door.

"Of course." Sherlock scowled. He had never really liked Molly in that way. She was always helpful to him but he never felt anything for her. Sherlock then burst out of his room now fully dressed. He wore his purple shirt, noticing that she liked purple. "Everyone says they like the purple the best. What do you think?" He questioned.

"I think that you should feel comfortable in what you wear, even if someone else prefers one thing to another. It is better to wear what you want than what other people want." Scarlett said to him as she made her way back to her chair. She picked up the mug again and folded her legs under her. "So, what do you and John do? You seem very lazy if he allows you to stay in your night clothes until," She paused and looked at her watch, "two thirty in the afternoon." Sherlock looked at her in a puzzling way.

"Actually, we are not lazy at all." If this had been John sitting opposite Sherlock, or Mycroft, Mrs Hudson even Lestrade, then he would have snapped. He found Scarlett to be quite interesting to him, and he didn't want to ruin her interest in him, so he didn't snap. "I am a Consulting Detective, the only one in the World, and John is my blogger. He's also my assistant and flat-mate, but he blogs about everything that we do. It gets rather annoying." Scarlett saw his hand twitch as he spoke.

"Your hand moves a lot." Scarlett said to him once he had finished with John's annoying habit. Sherlock looked down at it and then placed both of his hands under his chin. "You also do that a lot. I'm guessing that you put your hands like that when you're thinking about something. Is it always important?" Sherlock tilted his head slightly in response. "Is that a yes or a no? I'm guessing it is a yes because most things that will go through your mind will most likely be important to you. Am I correct?" Scarlett asked placing her mug down on the table. She unfolded her legs and placed her hands together on her left leg on top.

"Twenty is a very young age for someone to have such intelligence of her surrounding World. Do you do a lot of reading, Scarlett?" Sherlock was trying to make conversation now. The way that Scarlett kept her posture and soft tone in her voice let Sherlock know that she was very intelligent. She had prove that to him through finding the camera and being able to listen to everything that he had to say. Most people would blank out when Sherlock started to explain how he came about certain parts of information. Either that or they'd tell him to 'Piss off'! He didn't like either situation, so Scarlett listening was a new relaxing situation for him. Had he found someone who would always listen to him?

"It is common for people to say that my mind is older than I am." Scarlett replied. She was used to this conversation now, so it bored her rather a lot. "Can I have a go?" She had noticed that Sherlock had started to twiddle the strings on his violin as it lay next to him. For a moment he looked confused and anxious about the safety of his violin and bow, but he handed it to her any way. For some reason, Sherlock trusted her. It was fairly similar to John Watson's meeting where he trusted him almost immediately.

"Look. I don't think you'll get it perfect the first-" Sherlock's sentence was interrupted with the perfect playing of his violin. It was exactly the same tune he himself had been playing previously when Scarlett arrived at Baker Street. Scarlett had never played the violin herself, but she managed to play it better than Sherlock could. He could only sit in his chair with his eyes full of anger. It was sarcastic anger, but anger nonetheless.

Scarlett stopped playing and handed the violin back to Sherlock with a quick, "I'll see you tomorrow sometime." And with that, Scarlett jumped out of the chair, climbed over the top of it and flew out of the door and downstairs.

Sherlock was left standing, holding his violin. He shouted, "Of course." after her, remaining where he stood. He was astounded that someone could play his own composed piece so perfectly when he hadn't even perfected it to his satisfaction yet himself. How had someone who Sherlock had never met before, just waltzed into his life and change it in the weirdest of ways in a matter of minutes? She really was a mystery to him, but that's what he enjoyed. The mystery. Even though he had read her perfectly, her glass was still empty.

**_I hope you enjoyed that! Thank you for reading! :)_**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Molly is a jealous party in this story, I believe. I hope that I've shown that to you in this particular chapter because she doesn't appear in any others, so. Yeah. Enjoy.**_

_**Chapter 3**_

_**St Bart's Morgue**_

"Good morning dear." Were the words that awoke Scarlett from her restless state. She had hardly slept, but that was nothing unusual. She didn't really see the point in sleeping; she knew it gave her energy. But that's what coffee was for, and exercise. As long as she got plenty of those, she wouldn't need to sleep as much. She wouldn't even need to eat regularly because it would slow her down. Her brain had started working faster than it had ever needed to in the past week whilst living with 221B folks. Sherlock and John had invited her to help them solve a case or two. John more reluctantly than Sherlock, but then again she thought it was probably due to him being jealous that Sherlock had found someone else who could be just as great as Sherlock was.

"Hello nan." Scarlett smiled and stretched before jumping out of bed like lightning. She pulled her clothes on and tied her hair into a small bun on top of her head. "First day. Mustn't be late." Scarlett flew out of the flat and down the street towards nowhere. She came back a few moments later and asked, "Where exactly _is_ Bart's?" She shrugged.

Two minutes later, both Scarlett and Sherlock had made their way out of 221B and were walking towards Bart's Hospital. "Thank you Sherlock, for showing me the way. I appreciate it." She smiled holding her bag tightly on her right shoulder. Sherlock's hands were inside his coat pockets as he walked along side her.

"Oh it's really no trouble." Sherlock replied with a grin. He was happy to help her in any way he could. On the other hand, he really wanted to take some anger out on someone and Molly had the best options in these circumstances. "Did you sleep well last night? I heard you pacing a lot." Sherlock asked her, how he cold have heard her Scarlett didn't know.

"I heard you pacing around as well you know. Don't make me not sleeping sound like a bad thing. You're just as bad." Scarlett felt bad in saying this, but she thought that it needed to be heard by Sherlock. He couldn't control her and she wanted to make that as clear as possible to him. Sherlock sighed and stopped walking.

"I'm sorry." Sherlock said to her quietly, and then he started to walk again. "John doesn't call you Scarlett any more, have you noticed?" Scarlett laughed placing her hand over her eyes.

"Oh yes. I've heard it and read it. Surely he could come up with something snappier than 'The New Woman'." Scarlett chuckled slightly to herself, admiring how little John had taken her character into consideration. She had no idea what the name meant, but that is how she was referred to in his blog.

"He tried to explain it to me the other night. I didn't like it in any way because neither side of his argument are true, so he can stuff that name where the sun doesn't shine. Piss on it. Take it out and eat it. Maybe then he'll learn not to put names onto everyone. Or to stop inflicting his opinions onto the World." Scarlett laughed at Sherlock. She had started to see a deeper character behind the hard outer core that everyone else had to deal with. She didn't know whether he was being nice to her because of her tumour, or whether he liked her. Did Sherlock like her though?

"What does 'The New Woman' mean? Has there only been one woman in your life? Am I the second that has caught your gaze?" Scarlett smirked as she joked around with her words. Sherlock didn't catch onto the joke, however. He found it rather offensive that John was comparing such an interesting specimen of a woman to a woman who beat people for their own pleasure. The woman who almost took control of the Government with a few pictures on her phone. The woman he had defeated because she let her heart control her head. Sherlock started to walk a little quicker, but Scarlett caught onto the fact that he didn't want to bother her with such dribble. "It's fine, if you don't want to tell me. I suppose I could always ask Molly, or John. In fact. How about John, eh?" She knew that she was trying her luck but it was better than nothing.

"Scarlett. 'The Woman', or Irene Adler, is someone who proved that love is a very pointless thing. I defeated her due to my common sense in terms of how the body reacts to certain things. In Miss Adler's situation it was the reaction of liking someone. Her pupils dilated every time I got close to her. Her pulse increased. Simple signs of affection." Sherlock turned to Scarlett towering over her. He had to look down in order to meet her eyes. "She fascinated me. She was so complex and mysterious and that caught my mind. It distracted me from what was right and in the end I had to stop her from doing something that could destroy both my brother and the Government." His head tilted slightly and then he continued to walk.

"Oh yes. Mycroft Holmes. My grandmother told me all about him and his 'minor' position in the Government. Does dear old Mycroft happen to know the Queen?" Scarlett curtsied at Sherlock, conscious that she was being watched by everyone around them. The people didn't baffle her any more.

"He likes to think that it's a minor position. My brother practically is the British Government." Sherlock paused and took his hand out of his pocket holding an ashtray from Buckingham Palace. "And yes, Mycroft does happen to know the Queen." He smiled cheekily at Scarlett as they approached Bart's Hospital.

"I heard that you went to Buckingham Palace in nothing but your bed sheet. Is that correct?" Sherlock swallowed but didn't reply. Scarlett laughed and then opened the door for him. "Aw. Did big brother Mycroft force you to put something on for the Queen?"

"Yes. And yes. He was, very insistent." He too walked through the door and then stopped to look around. "By which I mean, I tried to leave and he stood on my sheet. It almost showed the three men everything. That would have been embarrassing, but I was prepared to walk away if it came to it." He then walked up to the desk and took a key off of the receptionist that sat behind the desk. "I've convinced everyone here that you're fully capable of completing your training in the week. Can I trust you to follow that?" Sherlock's expression looked serious at first, but then it turned to a smile, almost congratulating her on not needing the full extent of training. Sherlock then sped away up the stairs leaving Scarlett standing alone. She watched him for a moment and then realised that she needed to follow him to know where she needed to go.

After a few minutes, Scarlett had managed to catch up with Sherlock and make her way to the morgue. Inside was an average height woman with auburn hair. She wore a white lab coat and carried a clipboard around with her. Scarlett had wanted to knock before entering, however, Sherlock had other plans. He pushed the door out of the way and clapped his hands together startling the woman. "Good morning Molly. My usual Monday morning type would be great." He showed Molly all of his teeth.

"Oh. Of course. It's over there." She pointed to a man lying in the middle of the morgue on a slab. Molly then turned to Scarlett and held out her hand. "Ah. You must be Scarlett, right? Sherlock has told me a lot about you." She beamed at Sherlock's name, even though she was talking about the woman standing opposite her. "I'm afraid you're spending the week with me. Don't worry. You'll pass." Molly winked at Scarlett and then walked over to where Sherlock stood. He looked over the body and made sure that he recorded everything before taking his coat, scarf and gloves off.

Molly came back towards Scarlett and took her coat. When she returned she was holding, what looked like, a riding crop. But Scarlett couldn't be sure. "What are you going to do with that?" She asked Sherlock as he raised his hand in the air and started to beat the man that lay in front of him. Even though she should have been disgusted with what Sherlock was doing to the man, she was fascinated by how much effort he put into beating the dead. He couldn't feel it, so what was the point? As she watched each stroke delicately, she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She had received a message. It was from John.

_'Scar. Where's Sherlock? Is he at Bart's with you? -JW'_

It took her a few moments to find the response before replying, '_Hey John. Yes, Sherlock is with me. But he's a bit beaten for time at the moment. A man is receiving a bit of a heavy lashing and Sherlock is, over looking it. -S' _

_'He's not using his riding crop on another dead body is he? Bloody hell. I'll be right there. Don't tell Sherlock! -JW'_ John made sure that there were two exclamation marks as to make his point more true than it actually was.

Scarlett's simple reply was, _'Of course I won't. -S_'

John arrived minutes later to discover Sherlock had moved onto his third body in the morgue. "Sherlock, what do you think you're doing?" John shouted as he saw the riding crop nearly hit the man.

Sherlock didn't stop until he made his reply of, "He's dead John. It's fine; he can't feel it." he then bent over again and continued to hit the man. John walked forward and grabbed the riding crop before it could hit the man instead. But he misjudged the timings and ended up being smacked in the face himself. He pulled away in pain and clutched his nose. Sherlock threw the crop on the ground and ran to look at John. "Are you okay?" He removed John's hand from where it was pressed so that he could see what damage he had caused. After seeing the red mark he pulled away from John and grabbed his coat. "I have to go." He walked towards the door and then turned back to Scarlett, "I'll come and get you later." Scarlett didn't have anything to say to Sherlock. She couldn't believe that he had just hit his best friend round the face.

"John, are you okay?" Scarlett and Molly ran forward to John to help him. John just pushed both of them away from him as he attempted to follow Sherlock down the stairs. "I'll see you back at the flat, I suppose." Scarlett shouted after him.

A few hours passed with Molly and Scarlett looking into several cases of a dead body. In total they had finished autopsies on seven different people. Three of those people had a heart condition, with the other four being completely different from the others. By the time it was three o'clock Molly had taught Scarlett about every piece of equipment. How it was used, why it was used and how this particular piece benefit their findings compared to another alternative piece of equipment.

"Well done today." Molly smiled at Scarlett. "I'm sure that you'll fulfil your job role before the end of the week." She held out her hand to say goodbye. Scarlett took her hand and then walked to get her coat. Outside of the door she caught a glimpse of Sherlock as he sped passed in order to give her a fright.

"Hello Sherlock. You're not exactly great at hiding are you?" She pulled her hat on top of her golden curls and then turned back into the morgue. "Thank you Molly. I'll see you tomorrow." Scarlett walked in front of Sherlock, faster and broader than he did. He couldn't understand why she thought she needed to be better than him. He never really understood anything about her but that's what made her fun.

"If I asked for your opinion then that would be helpful, however I didn't so your opinion is invalid to me." Sherlock told her referring to what she had said about him hiding. Scarlett stopped and looked up at the man.

"I can walk myself home_ thank you_." Scarlett started to walk again, this time a different direction from Sherlock. His eyes rolled and he made his alternate route home, what had he said that offended her so much? "Oh I'm the great Sherlock Holmes. Everyone around me can't compare to my massive intellect." She muttered to herself. For the most of the journey, Scarlett didn't pay any attention as to where she was going. She had bumped into four people within the first three minutes of walking because her head was so low facing the ground. She didn't want to leave Sherlock, but she didn't really want to talk to someone who would insult her even though he always called her 'interesting'. Due to her eyes not straying from the ground, Scarlett eventually bumped into another man. This time she looked up to apologise. He had slick black gelled hair and a swift suit that made him look extravagant.

"Oh sorry dear. I wasn't looking where I was going." The man smiled at her sweetly trying to apologise in his words but also in his smile. "Did you drop anything?" He questioned.

"No. Thank you. I'm sorry too, by the way." Scarlett looked the man up and down as he placed his hands firmly inside of his trouser pockets. "Sorry. I'm Scarlett. Scarlett Hines. I've got an Irish surname and Irish dad, but I myself am not Irish. You however sound very Irish." The man laughed at her slightly, he was trying to be friendly as he played his game.

He held out his hand, "The name is James Moriarty. But most people call me Jim." Scarlett took his had and shook it tightly. "You know, Scarlett. You shouldn't really talk to strangers." Moriarty smirked as Scarlett's eyes squinted. She was confused; he had spoken to her as well. "You never know who could _grab_ you..." Moriarty's face lost all emotion as she fell into his arms. He removed a small syringe from her shoulder.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Hello again. This chapter is rather long, so I apologise for the number of words. I really hope that you enjoy this chapter because I enjoyed writing it. As always, I do not own Sherlock or any of the characters except Scarlett. Thank you.**_

_**Chapter 4**_

_**Trinkets**_

Scarlett awoke with a start, she could hear loud footsteps approaching her and a small chuckle of glee. "I'm sorry it had to be this way. Sherlock won't pay attention to me." Moriarty walked closer to the table on which Scarlett was strapped down. Her limbs were bound to a corner each as they tried to pull her body apart slowly. "There's no point in struggling." Jim laughed at her. "You'll _never_ get out." His face no appeared under the faint light in the room.

"Who are you, _really_?" Scarlett snapped failing to believe that this man was really Jim Moriarty.

"I'm Jim Moriarty, Scarlett. Have John Watson and Sherlock Holmes never told you about me?" Scarlett looked up to him with a strange looking gaze, shaking her head. "Oh. Well, I should probably tell you who I am and what I do." Moriarty pulled a chair from the darkness and sat down next to the table. "I am a Consulting Criminal." Scarlett's eyes tightened recognising the name of that job. "Ah. Sherlock is a Consulting Detective. I am his arch-enemy. Well I'm pretty sure that he'd call me that any way. He lives in a fantasy believing that friends are not important." Moriarty moved closer to Scarlett. "I believe my most famous case against Sherlock and John was the well-known 'The Great Game'. I believe that's what John called it on his blog. Do you read it?" Scarlett looked Moriarty up and down.

Her head faced the ceiling again and then she spoke, "Is that the one with the different cases and the bombs? You took innocent people, strapped bombs to them and then gave Sherlock a mystery to solve." Scarlett had indeed read about that particular case, and she thoroughly enjoyed the thrill of having to solve something with a time limit, or else BANG. Someone would die guaranteed, and others may follow with them, depending on where they are in the United Kingdom.

Jim smiled at her and then replied, "Yes. Do you know what happened in the swimming pool?" His smile changed to a smirk thinking of how he had both Sherlock and John cornered in that situation. Scarlett shook her head again. "I kidnapped John, strapped a bomb to him and then cornered both him and Sherlock. Sherlock nearly killed us all by shooting the bomb, but a woman named Irene Adler interrupted with a phone call. Shame really. I could have killed them both right there and then and it would be all over. I would have killed the best detective in the World." Moriarty's tone changed so it was full of anger for Irene. She had interfered with Moriarty's Plans and let Sherlock Holmes escape. "In the end she was useless because she let her heart control her mind." Scarlett's head jerked towards Moriarty after he said that, knowing that she had heard it before.

"I think Sherlock said that to me this morning." Scarlett was starting to see that Jim Moriarty and Sherlock Holmes were not much different from each other. Yes Jim was a Criminal and Sherlock was a Detective but they both shared common similarities. They were both smart. They both dressed superbly. They both refrained from using certain words because they thought it was below their intellectual scale. In many ways Holmes and Moriarty were the same, but overall the Consulting Detective and the Consulting Criminal were two different ends of a long scale. Moriarty was evil, Scarlett could see that. The way he smiled and used his surroundings to kidnap people. Sherlock was the smartest man she knew but his feelings would never force him to come and get her.

"Oh look dear. You've got a text from dear old Sherlock Holmes." Moriarty held her phone close to her face showing the message that read:

_'Do you have any idea where John could be? I left him here before I came to get you but now he's vanished. -SH'_

Moriarty laughed loudly and coldly and a door opened in a corner. A small man was pushed in tied up. "Hello John. Sherlock is looking for you." John's body squirmed on the ground, Moriarty had gotten to him too.

"John?" Scarlett shouted out and she frantically looked around in hope that she could actually see him.

"I-I'm okay Scarlett." John pushed out of his mouth. He was out of breath from the beating that Moriarty had given him before bringing him here.

Moriarty strolled towards him rolling his eyes. When he reached John's body he picked him up by his arm and pushed him towards Scarlett. "I'm very disappointed in you both." He then smiled towering over the pair. "Oh look. Sherlock doesn't even care about you my dear," Moriarty said to Scarlett showing her John's messages from Sherlock:

_'John. Where are you? -SH'_

15:45

_'Okay, This seriously is getting annoying now John. You could just simply text back saying that you're with Sarah. I wouldn't be offended. -SH'_

16:00

_'Hello Moriarty.'_ Moriarty stared down at the phone after reading the two previous messages, he had not expected the next to be directed at him. Inside of his pocket, Jim's phone started to vibrate playing his ringtone of the classic 'Stayin' Alive'.

"Yes." Was Moriarty's simple answer to the voice on the other end of the phone. John and Scarlett could hear the faint mumbling of a voice, but they couldn't understand what he was saying nor did they know who he was. The only thing they knew is that the voice was a man's and he was calling Jim Moriarty. "Come and get them." With that Jim hung up the call and walked towards John. He raised his hand and punched John on his left cheek.

"Who was that?" Scarlett shouted at Moriarty. He turned towards her and slapped her around her cheek. She could feel it sting, but her pain in her mind was worse so she managed to conceal her hurt. "Who was it? We have the right to know."

"You've only got seven and a half months to live Scarlett. Why don't you use them wisely and play with someone who knows how to mess with others?" Moriarty was offering something to Scarlett, but she didn't know what. John just looked up at her shaking his head to Moriarty's offer.

"I'm perfectly fine with the company I keep, thank you _very_ much." Scarlett snapped back and spat at him. Moriarty wiped the spit from his face and grabbed Scarlett's neck.

"Do you know what I'm capable of, my dear? You should really watch your tongue." Scarlett kept her mouth tightly shut. Moriarty looked at the necklace that was tangled around her neck. Hanging from one chain were five different trinkets, all of different colours and shapes. He held each one up to his eye separately. The first was a diamond skull. "Does this represent your dying state? Aww." Moriarty teased. The second was a bright blue feather. "You want to fly?"

"No. It is to remind me of my true sorrow on the inside in the form of something delicate and incapable of hurt because it is merely a part of a creature. Something that can be created for art or crafting. Something that could be natural or could be fake. The sorrow is the blue. I received it from my mum. She hates me, and I hate her." She paused and looked right into Moriarty's eyes. "What? Is there a _problem_ with that?" His eyes squinted at her as he puzzled together the information that she had worded so perfectly, that it had baffled both Moriarty and John.

"What is this supposed to represent?" Moriarty asked her holding up a red cross in front of her eyes.

"I thought that you only had two trinkets?" John asked from the floor. When he and Sherlock, but mainly John, has asked about it previously she had only two trinkets on her necklace. "When did you get the others?"

"I didn't want to tell you, John. I added both you and Sherlock to my necklace so that I may remember you even if and when I start to lose myself." Scarlett put it in the best possible way that she could so that John would understand that she actually cared for both of the men.

"What are they?" John asked, now flattered by what she had done even if it was just a necklace.

"Sorry to interrupt. It's a red cross, like the health symbol. You know." Moriarty spoke up for once. He was the one that was supposed to be leading the conversation, not his hostages and their feelings.

"Turn it over." Scarlett whispered to him. Moriarty did as she asked and looked at the back of the cross. In the middle of the two lines crossing there was an engraving.

"_JW_. I'm guessing that means John Watson?" Moriarty joked looking down at the man now standing. He was facing away so that neither Moriarty or Scarlet could see his tears. "What about this tea cup? I'm sure that this isn't for Sherlock my dear."

Scarlett's eyes jolted to look at Moriarty. "No actually. That's for my grandmother, Mrs Hudson. Another memory for me when I start to go. I don't want to remember the bad stuff, well I do. But for me, this way will be easier. I've ordered three more trinkets to represent other things. By the time I've started to lose myself, I'll be able to hold onto the memories. Literally." She smiled her eyes dropping to the next thing Moriarty held.

"Ah the final one." He lifted it tighter than the others hoping to strangle Scarlett a bit more than he already was, with the grip around her neck. "I tell you what, I expected a magnifying glass or a deer stalker. Not this." He held it down to John, strangling Scarlett in the process.

"Wait, that's a mobile phone?" John questioned. He didn't understand why that was her choice for Sherlock.

"He is always on his phone. It even has Sherlock engraved on the back, see." The necklace was pulled tighter around her neck.

"So I see. What are the other three. This is rather interesting and it's passing the time quite nicely." Moriarty smiled at her slyly.

"A riding crop. An actual heart shape, not those stupid 'love' hearts. And a lab coat." Scarlett could hardly breath, but she thought that it would be better for both her and John if she kept talking so to keep Moriarty happy. "The lab coat is for Molly Hooper. I think we're going to be great friends at some point. Also she's helping me get through this week's worth of exams so that I can get the job that I want before I die." Moriarty could see that Scarlett was not afraid of her upcoming death. "The heart is to signify my job, not love, so I got a real shaped heart to show what I do in my life. Well hopefully. And finally the riding crop is another one for Sherlock. I bought it just before I bumped into you Jim. Today Sherlock was beating quite a few dead men with his riding crop, so he was obviously angry about something. Or he could be expressing something else, but I'm pretty sure it's anger because, well. He's Sherlock Holmes." Her head drooped. She knew that it was most likely something other than anger. "_Happy_ now? Who is coming for us?" Moriarty slapped her once more.

"I'll ask that you keep your place in this, because I; Scarlett, am in control of both John's and your lives. So. Choose your words _carefully_."

"I'll kill you myself, if you don't let us go Moriarty!" John shouted at him. His hands were still bound but he tried to grab Jim, with little success. Moriarty pushed John back onto the ground with his one free hand and then turned back to Scarlett.

"Oh you better behave yourself, because in the next few minutes Sherlock will arrive and then I shall give you a choice. But for now, I'm going into the shadows." Moriarty let go of Scarlett's neck allowing her to move her head again. He slipped slowly into the shadows as if he was never even there himself. Scarlett and John looked at each other in confusion. Had it been Sherlock on the phone? He was really coming to get them... But what did Moriarty have in mind for the pair all of them when he arrived. And what was this choice that Scarlett had to make?

Outside of the door, they could both hear footsteps. They got increasingly louder and faster as they approached the door. For a few seconds there was fiddle at the lock and then it opened. The light pierced both John and Scarlett's eyes as a tall and dark figure entered the room. He looked around for a bit and then ran towards the pair. "Are you alright?" He said hugging John. He then untied his legs and helped the man up. Using a knife that she had in her pocket, Scarlett untied the remainder of her limbs and joined the men.

Brushing herself down she asked Sherlock, "Can I have a hug?" She was joking of course, however Sherlock picked her up form where she stood and twirled in a circle with her legs folded behind her. When he put her down, they both received a very suspicious look from John. "We need to go, _now_!" Scarlett started to pull the men towards the door when it shut and locked from the outside. Moriarty's men were told to let Sherlock in, but then trap all three in with him. Outnumbered? No.

"Moriarty." Sherlock gave a quick nod to the darkness. John and Scarlett couldn't see where Moriarty was hiding but Sherlock could see it clearly. His vision was impeccable, and this situation just proved his theory. "Are you going to hide in the shadows all day, or are we going to get somewhere?" Sherlock snapped, he always was a very impatient man. Moriarty let out a small giggle before showing himself in the little light that there was in the room.

"Hi." Moriarty said cheekily, hands in pockets, as he walked forward towards the three people in front of him. "Don't ever change Sherlock. I knew that if I took your new friend first then you wouldn't think anything of it." He paused and tilted his head to John. "But as soon as Johnny boy here was missing, you flew to the rescue as though you cared about him." Moriarty stopped and looked back at Sherlock. "Do you care, Sherlock?" Sherlock's eyes squinted at him for a brief moment, but Moriarty caught it. John looked at Sherlock and then back to Moriarty.

"So, what's this choice that you're offering me then?" Scarlett butted in so she could stop Sherlock from shouting at Moriarty. "You said something about a choice when you were looking at my trinkets. Well Sherlock is here now, so you can tell me." Scarlett was annoyed because Moriarty was a rather annoying person to be up against. He didn't like to rush things which meant that everything was thought out carefully and completed in the time that Moriarty thought was best. If it didn't comply with his timings he didn't want to follow it.

"You need to choose between Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, or me." He smirked at Scarlett as her eyes widened slightly, signifying to him that her decision would be Sherlock. "Either that or," He paused and looked up to the ceiling. So did the other three but then their gazes returned to each other as red dots appeared on all three of them. "You all die." Moriarty chuckled to himself for a moment and then returned to his train of thought. "I know that you're dying any way, but if you die now you won't be able to fulfil your goals." Scarlett's head dropped slightly. Both Sherlock and John noticed, they looked at each other and decided to let her go.

"I don't know what to do in my heart. But in terms of my mind... Moriarty." Scarlett walked towards Moriarty who held out his hand to her. He twirled her into him and smiled.

"_Wise_ decision." Moriarty's hand waved off the red dots, leaving the men free to go. However Moriarty wouldn't let them go just yet without seeing the show he had in store for them. "Oh wait you two." He called after them as they turned to leave. "Watch this before you leave."

Sherlock turned back angrily to him. He had just taken his friend from him and now he probably wanted to make it worse. "I think we are perfectly fine without-" He stopped where he stood and also in his words; looking at the syringe that hung out of Scarlet's shoulder. "What are you injecting her with?" He walked forward viciously, John trying to hold him back.

"Just a simple mind recipe." Moriarty smirked at Sherlock. He had won something from him and he was happy about it. "Don't worry. She'll be fine. Unless you count thinking like me to not be fine?" He smiled again at the men. Sherlock once more tried to attack Moriarty, but John succeeded in holding him away.

"Sherlock. Sherlock you need to calm down." John remained tight around Sherlock's arms, holding him back so that he didn't make the situation worse. He looked at Scarlett who looked like she was sleeping whilst she stood. Then her face returned to its normal form, her eyes opening and her smile returning.

"Wow. I think I needed that!" Scarlett walked towards Sherlock and stroked his cheek. "Anything you'd like to say to me before I delete my past self completely. Well, in terms of feelings for you any way. I liked you Sherlock, but do you know what? Moriarty can give me more in the next seven months then you could ever offer." She turned her attention to John mouthing, "I'm sorry John". She then waited for Sherlock to say something. "Let him go, John. He won't hurt me." John did as she asked and allowed his friend to go free. Sherlock straightened his coat and scarf and then returned to his natural posture. "Well."

"I'll send you your new trinkets when they arrive. Or better still, I'll text you and you can come and collect them." Sherlock had lost all expression and emotion in his face allowing it to look like he had no emotion at all. This was his fake face. The face he used when someone he had lost was dear to him. He didn't use it very often, that was for sure, but he had plenty of practice in making it look convincing.

Scarlett smiled at him and let out a small giggle. "Thank you." She pushed a small escaping piece of hair out of Sherlock's face, his curls bouncing even though he didn't even move his head. "How did you know about those?" She looked him up and down and spotted a mobile in his hand. She grabbed it; his reaction too slow for hers. "Naughty John. You have two mobiles?" John sighed and then stepped back a step or two. His head lowered and he placed his hands in his pockets on his jeans.

"So what if I have two phones? It helped us didn't it?" John asked her whilst he stared down at the floor. He knew that Sherlock was hurt by her leaving, but somehow he had to manage.

"Well. It helped you." Scarlett moved herself back to her position next to Moriarty. She winked and then said, "Goodbye." allowing her body to fall into Moriarty's arms. John and Sherlock watched as their friend became lost in Moriarty's arms.

"Goodbye Scar.." John let out as he turned away towards the door. "Come on Sherlock. Leave it." He pulled Sherlock by the wrist leading him out of the door. Eventually, Sherlock realised how John was holding him and pulled away viciously.

"We can't just let her go like that John!" Sherlock was angry about everything. Inside he knew that Scarlett and John were both put in this situation because he had left Scarlett alone after insulting her intelligence. "This is all my fault." John sighed and turned his head towards his friend.

"How can this be your fault?" John questioned him. He knew that Sherlock would feel guilt, even if he supposedly felt nothing, but the whole situation with Scarlett joining Moriarty's side would never be Sherlock's fault. Or was it his fault?

Sherlock stopped where he stood and threw his arms through the air. "John. I told Scarlett that didn't value her opinion, although I do and I value yours as well. She took it worse than I thought she would so she walked herself home. I naturally took the quickest route in order to avoid the milk that you asked me to get. I got back and you were also gone. If I hadn't left her then maybe you wouldn't have been taken either." Sherlock brushed his hands through his hair and then started to walk again. "Forget it." He turned the collar down on his coat and continued to walk back to the flat contemplating what both he and John would have to tell Mrs Hudson when they arrived. Oh no. Mrs Hudson would kill both of them and make sure that their remains were the ones that were always in the fridge, microwave or cupboard. "John. What are we going to tell Mrs Hudson?" He was concerned for both of their safety. Something inside of him made him think that John was probably the better option to tell her, but she would want blood. Sherlock would sacrifice himself.

"There's no 'we' about it Sherlock. I will tell Mrs Hudson because you are a machine. You'll make everything worse." For the next few minutes both Sherlock and John walked in silence, until John said, "We can get her back, can't we?" Sherlock's gaze remained on the street before him.

"Yes, John. It is our priority from now on." John looked him in a strange manner. "What? She's family, is she not?"

"Well. Technically not..."

"She's Mrs Hudson's family, which means that she's ours." To John, this is the most human that Sherlock had been since they'd met. He started to question mentally why he was so concerned about Scarlett's safety.

"Sherlock. I know you said that you're married to your work, but do you think that you have some sort of _feelings_ for Scarlett?" John knew that he was in dangerous territory asking about Sherlock's emotions, but he needed to get to the bottom of why Sherlock was so determined. Sherlock's eyes still didn't move from their position.

"I don't know John. Does attraction come in the form of pains in the chest and the want to help Scarlett back here before she dies of her natural causes? Does it show through my fingers tapping a little more when she's around? The fact that I want to go and escort her to and from Bart's." Sherlock now turned to John and looked right into his eyes. His own eyes were filled with water; he didn't want to admit that he felt something for Scarlett. On the other something inside of him told him that it would be better for John and Scarlett if he did admit them.

"That's love for you Sherlock. It always appears in different ways." John placed his hand onto Sherlock's shoulder providing him with a slight source of comfort. He knew that Sherlock wouldn't accept it, but he did it any way. Sherlock couldn't love someone, it would interfere with everything, and he knew that.

"John, I advise you to stop inflicting your opinions on me. It does not help the situation at hand." Sherlock snapped back at John.

John stopped in the middle of the street watching his 'friend' as he continued walking. "Fine. If you don't appreciate how I try to help you, then I'll. I don't know, I'll just walk away..." John walked the opposite side of the street for some time, and then he finally turned off on the nearest route possible. Sherlock smiled as he watched him walk away; he could finally have some peace to contemplate his possible options for getting Scarlett back. After all she only had seven months left to live any way.

"Maybe there's some way of getting her back. An anti-dote? Possibly. Kill Moriarty? Out of the question for now." As he passed several women on his way back to the flat, he received several looks. He considered them refreshing because not many people gave him those sorts of looks any more, especially in the company of Lestrade, John or Scarlett. The looks were mostly because Sherlock had started talking about killing someone. Also, he considered that it was probably because he was talking out loud. Surely everyone talked out loud at some point, didn't they? "Yes they do. But most people don't talk to themselves in a street full of people..." Sherlock realised what was going on and decided to stop talking.

When he finally made it home, Sherlock tore off his coat and scarf and started to pace around the room. Where was John? He couldn't think about that for now though, he had more pressing things to contemplate in his Mind Palace. After walking exactly thirty two times around the flat, Sherlock crouched on his armchair and started to plot something. Throughout his head raced ideas of love, ideas of hatred and ideas of sorrow. "Do I really need to save you, considering you don't have much time left here any way? Moriarty will thrill you at least." His eyes shot open to see John standing in the doorway. "By the way that your heart beat has increased I can tell that you are angry at me for something? What exactly?" His head tilted slightly to show he was questioning.

"I'm not angry at you. I'm relieved that you're finally starting to see sense. It just caught me by surprise, that's all." John took of his coat and placed it on the sofa. "I see that you haven't destroyed the flat yet, then." John smirked slightly at Sherlock waiting for him to reply.

"John... I..." Sherlock paused and then shot out of the chair. "I know what we can do to stop this." He smiled at John and started to pull his coat back on. John looked puzzled, so Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Moriarty will use Scarlett to get to _us_ John. Don't you see?" He sighed. "People just need to think." After tightening his scarf around his neck he told John, "I'll explain it to you on the way." with a sigh.

_**Thank you for reading. The next chapter will be up tomorrow, I think. :)**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Hello again. Sorry I didn't update yesterday... I was awake until 8 and **_**then _I fell asleep until 2 pm. What happened? I watched Dragon's Den, that's what. I usually enjoy the program, but it wouldn't keep me awake. Any way, here is a really nice chapter in the whole story, well I think so. I think this really shows Moriarty and Scarlett's relationship and what she's willing to do to complete her goals. I hope you enjoy!_**

_**Chapter 5**_

_**Bucket List**_

Scarlett awoke in a mysterious bedroom. It was dark and full of different objects, each signifying something about Moriarty's character and personality. That's where she was. Everything around her helped her decide that she must be in Jim Moriarty's home.

"Good morning." Moriarty walked in with a little skip, he was obviously happy that he had managed to change one of Sherlock's 'main' people. In terms of main people that meant friends, but Sherlock didn't have friends, did he? His arrival made Scarlett jump slightly, but she eventually regained her posture.

"Good morning to you too, I suppose." Moriarty noticed the half-heartedness in Scarlett's voice; so something was wrong with her being here, in her mind any way.

"What's wrong?" He asked her, sitting next her on the bed, but there was no answer. So he decided to try a different approach with her. "You've got seven months to live, yet you're using your first hours in a new life to sulk and mope around in my bedroom?" Initially he was teasing, however by the time the sentence had finished, he realised that was he was saying to her was actually the matter of the truth.

"Oh it's nothing. Just me over-reacting about something so stupid, small and inferior." Scarlett had her hands placed together, gaze upon her folded hands. To Jim it looked as though she was imitating holding something that wasn't there, which to him looked rather strange. To her, however, it was obviously something important.

"Have you lost something of great importance to you? A piece of paper perhaps?" Moriarty remembered taking a small cream coloured piece of paper out of Scarlett's pocket when he had brought her here. He thought nothing of it because it was folded and looked out, so had placed it with her necklace and watch on the table in the living area,.Scarlett's head jerked towards him in response; that was exactly what she was missing. "It's on the table in the living room." He let Scarlett climb over his body to leave the room and take back her precious things. When she returned she had already placed the necklace around her neck and the watch on her wrist. Because Moriarty hadn't brought himself to read the piece of paper, he was intrigued by what mean so much to Scarlett seven months before her death.

"It's a bucket list," Scarlett explained as she climbed back over Moriarty to sit down next to him. "I made it when I was fifteen, but I remembered it just before I moved to London. I added some stuff because I know that I haven't got much time left and I want to make my last few months as full as I can." Moriarty started to feel a large pain in his chest; was he starting to feel sorry for Scarlett? "I'll never be able to do any of this stuff again due to me being, dead. So. Yeah." Scarlett trailed off; she thought that she was being to over-dramatic about a stupid list.

"Can I have a look?" Moriarty asked Scarlett; his attention had been captured by the list because he knew that he had promised Scarlett a full life if she went with him. He hadn't expected this though, so he was slightly caught out of his depth. After a few moments of contemplating, Scarlett handed Moriarty the list. She then pulled her knees to her chest and hugged herself. Moriarty started to read the list out loud:

_No. 1- Identify flaws and correct them to make myself a better person._

"Now, now. Surely you don't have anything that you need to change?" Scarlett rolled her eyes at Jim and pointed to the next one to get him to move on. "Okay, okay." He replied to her, though she did not say anything.

_No.2- Move away from both parents, allowing myself to actually live the life I want._

"I've completed that one by just being here in London." Scarlett smiled and pulled a small pencil out of her pocket. Moriarty had left that in her pocket by mistake, but he didn't mind. "I can cross it out, which is good." Scarlett drew a small line across her second point. She then moved her finger to get Moriarty to read the third point.

_No.3- Stop self harm for own sake, but also future friend's sake._

"Yes, Jim, I used to self harm. We can cross that one off as well." Scarlett almost snatched the paper out of Moriarty's hand in order to cross it off. She knew inside that she was stupid to have done it, but she considered it as an experiment now. After all, when she wrote this she had only cut herself three or four times. An experiment was definitely what it was.

_No.4- Become either a Forensic Pathologist or Forensic Scientist. _

Scarlett scribbled 'Forensic Scientist' out with a different kind of scribble. Moriarty looked at her weirdly for a moment and realised that she was becoming a Forensic Pathologist, so didn't need the other option. Scarlett gave him a quick nod and he continued.

_No.5- Start a relationship_

_No.6- End a relationship_

_No.7- Find a hobby that will make being alone feel lovely and empowering; something to look forward to_

"Wait. You enjoy being alone?" Moriarty asked her, surprised at how well she seemed to get along with those she spent time with, including himself currently.

"Sometimes the best company that I can keep is my own. I mean, I've been shunted off from my mother to my father all of my life spending all of my time alone with my own thoughts. A few years ago, I realised that it wasn't the worst thing that could happen. The train gave me a break from my parents shouting at me, and that's the way I liked it." Scarlett revealed to Moriarty. She had never talked about her inside feelings to anyone before so it puzzled even her when she told him. "I had no friends so I was alone. Shall we?"

_No.8- Be in a relationship where the other person says, 'I love you' first. _

_No.9- Have a friend. Even if it's just one, just have a friend. _

_No.10- Enjoy life_

_No.11- Stop hating myself._

Moriarty was left speechless. He couldn't believe what he was reading, especially since he could see that from No.9 onwards were the ones that Scarlett had added recently. How could Scarlett hate herself so much as to put it on a Bucket List? He didn't say anything in case she snapped, however.

_No.12- Fix relationship with parents now that time is running out._

_No.13- Be loved._

_No.14- Learn to say 'no' instead of other alternative words_

_No.15- Make a habit of telling people how you feel_

_No.16- Stop showing off in front of others; they don't appreciate it._

_No.17- Try to remember as much of your true self as possible as it slowly drains away from you_

_No.18- Identify every fear and try to overcome them as soon as possible_

_No.19- Revisit those places that make you who you are, not who people think you are._

_No.20- Pass away in the company of those who I care about- John Watson, Mrs Hudson, Sherlock Holmes._

"Do you really want to do all of this before you go?" Moriarty's voice was sympathetic, he started to rethink about the choice that he had made her take. "You can go back to Sherlock and John if you so wish, to complete these... Well, this Bucket List." He moved from the bed and held out a hand to her. "You don't have to stay here if you don't want to." Scarlett took his hand and allowed him to lead her to the door.

"I don't have to go, Jim. I suppose I could do some with you?" Scarlett smiled at him trying to make him change his mind and help her complete some of the things that she really wanted to complete. Moriarty looked at her for a few seconds while he contemplated the options.

"Let's start with the fears..." Moriarty spun Scarlett around so she lost her balance and ended up lying on the sofa. Without warning Moriarty pulled think pieces of rope from under the sofa cushion strapping Scarlett down. "Right." Moriarty moved into a cupboard and returned holding a rather large box with a blue blanket over the top. He placed the box down on the table and placed his hand inside. Up his arm a big black spider crawled. It was the size of Scarlett's hand, the hand in which squirmed to help her get free. Her attempts, however, failed. This spider wasn't the only one in the box though. Moriarty moved towards Scarlett and eventually tipped the contents on top of her squirming body. In total there were 9 huge black arachnids crawling all over her body. She suddenly stopped squirming. "Wise decision."

"Tha-Thank you. I have had some experience of this before. I'd just like to say that this method doesn't usually work." Although she had stopped squirming, the spiders did not cease to scare her slightly. She liked the small versions of these creatures because she could control whether they continued to live or not. She enjoyed that power.

For the next few hours, Moriarty continued to pour different creatures and insects over Scarlett who managed to remain still throughout the time that they were upon her. Eventually, Moriarty had run out of things to throw on her, and Scarlett had run out of things to be scared of. She was wrong in thinking that this method wouldn't work, because with each creature she managed to overcome her 'fears'. When they had finally finished, Moriarty untied Scarlett from the sofa allowing her to sit up and stretch after many hours of torture.

"We can cross No.18 out now, I suppose." Scarlett told Jim with a smile. He sat down next to her placing his arm behind her on the sofa.

"Here. You received a text when I was applying the scorpions." He handed Scarlett her phone thinking back to the tremendous amounts of scorpions he had bred over the past year. Scarlett took her phone, looking Moriarty up and down. Her questioning eyes were the ones that she was using now.

"Why do you have so many species of insects and things?" Scarlett asked him flicking her phone's screen on. Instead of just one message she had four different messages. While Jim explained what excited him about the different species, Scarlett scrolled through all four messages:

'_Where are you? It's your second day and you haven't turned up?! -Molly'_

10:16

_'If convenient come to 221B Baker Street. If inconvenient, come any way. -SH'_  
13:38

_'I think you should know that I am slightly offended by your choice of memories for me. The riding crop, for example, is not in any way my true character so there should be no need for you to remember that particular memory. -SH'_

14:06

_'I would just like to talk to you, is that so hard? Oh dear god, I'm starting to sound like John when he's trying to talk to me... Surely Moriarty isn't keeping you that busy on your first day? -SH'_  
14:30

Scarlett sighed at Sherlock's impatient nature. In the end she wrote three different responses to Molly, eventually going with, '_I'm sorry Molly. I've been, well, pre-occupied. One of your ex's has spent the day with me throwing different insects upon me as I lay strapped down to the sofa, whilst he tried to cure my 'fears'. I'll be in later. -Scar'_. And then five different responses to Sherlock, which ended up in her typing, _'Hello Sherlock. Why do you have to be so impatient? Some people have other things to do with their lives. I'll be round in about 40 mins. I'll tell you why I haven't answered then. You can also give me my trinkets while we talk. Also, I don't care whether you like it or not, it's to help me remember. -Scar'_. She didn't really like her response to Sherlock but it would have to do for now.

Moriarty noticed that Scarlett wasn't really paying any attention so he stopped talking and went to change. "I can drop you off if you so wish?"

"Can I come back afterwards?" Scarlett was almost pleading him.

"You can stay here until the end of the week if you so wish. I was hoping that you would like to be my assistant until you, pass on, but I know that you really do love Sherlock Holmes. I'm sure that I can't change that, so yes. I shall give you a lift if you so wish." Moriarty shouted from inside his room. What he had said made Scarlett feel bad about the whole situation, but it was good that she had a second option.

"I'm sorry Jim." She went into the bathroom and started to replenish her make up. Even though she didn't wear much any way, it was always good to look her best when she met someone.

40 minutes later, just as Scarlett had told Sherlock, Moriarty's car arrived outside of Baker Street. "I'll erm, text you when you can come and get me. Is that okay?" Scarlett was weary with what she said to Jim because she knew that her going back to Holmes and Watson was something that he didn't want. On the other hand, he had to let her decide considering he was allowing her to live her life how she wanted to for the last remaining moths that she spent on the Earth.

"I can't wait to see the new additions." Were the only words that could slip out of Moriarty's mouth as he continued to face forward in the car. Before she left Scarlett placed a kiss on Moriarty's cheek, noticing her mistake. She then sped out of the car watching it leave before she'd gotten out of it properly. Now she had to face the machine that was inside. Her first few steps were small and fragile; in all honesty to herself, Scarlett was a bit scared about what Sherlock might do to change her back. When she reached the door, she placed the key inside the door and walked inside. Her breath started to increase as she walked as calm as she could up the stairs. She could hear Sherlock playing his violin once more, but then it stopped when she had arrived at the door. She knocked three times and waited for an answer. What was Sherlock going to say to her? Was this actually a trap? Nonetheless, Scarlett would be going back to live with them next week so it wouldn't matter any way. But the terror still managed to creep over her. Inside she could hear footsteps come closer and closer, her terror had to leave. And fast!

_**Thank you for reading this and I hope you enjoyed it. Please review if you think I should improve anything, it is much appreciated! :)**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**This chapter is a bit weird, well I think so any way. It's basically just a link between Scarlett returning and what will happen in the next chapter or so. Mycroft planned all of this, by the way, much against both John **_**and _Sherlock's wishes. I hope you enjoy it._**

_**Chapter 6**_

_**Friends?**_

It wasn't Sherlock at the door however, it was in fact John. As soon as he saw the full version of Scarlett in the open door he pulled her into a tight, and rather suffocating hug. He sighed with relief almost, she was safe back in the arms of someone John knew he could trust. Himself. For a few moments they stood tangled in each others emotions, but now Scarlett had had enough. She pushed away from John and said, "I'm okay. I don't need all of this personal hugging time. You should save it for someone who will live for more than seven months."

John rolled his eyes and held Scarlett back before she walked in to see the person who actually asked for her to come back. "He hasn't sent you here to spy on us has he? If he has you can go straight away." He pointed his finger towards the stairs and gave Scarlett a firm look to let her know that he wasn't messing.

"No. Sherlock asked me to come. Jim was actually trying to help me complete my Bucket List. Fears in fact. He was throwing spiders and scorpions on me whilst I was strapped to his sofa. It worked. Can I go in now please?" Scarlett spoke quickly because she wasn't here to waste time talking. She wanted to get Sherlock's conversation out of the way so she could go back and help Jim.

John raised an eyebrow at her response. "You call him Jim do you?" Scarlett's head tilted slightly acknowledging that she knew John was getting angrier. "You've known each other for all of a day and you're already on first name terms."

"And why does that matter exactly? He introduced himself to me originally as Jim, so that is what I am sticking with." Scarlett stepped forward into John slightly, showing him that she wasn't afraid to punch him if she needed to. John stepped out of the way allowing her into the flat before him. When they both had entered their attention was drawn to Sherlock at the window. The smell and look of someone smoking filled the room. But it wasn't just the smell, Sherlock was in fact smoking. He had found the cigarettes that John had hid from his 'secret supply' and was taking a few puffs out of the window. Scarlett didn't care if Sherlock smoked or not. It was his body that he was ruining; therefore it didn't concern her.

John on the other hand had literally sprinted towards Sherlock in order to grab the near stub out of his hand. "What have I told you about snooping in my room?" He snapped at Sherlock who was now laughing to himself about John's continuous attempts overpower him. No matter how many times John did try, he always ended up unsuccessful. Sherlock was far too witty and intelligent to allow John to take control.

"You're not very good at hiding them, though are you? Each time it is just in a different jumper. And if you ask my opinion, most people would ignore but I'm going to say it any way, you need to improve where you hide them." Sherlock saw John roll his eyes in the reflection of the window. "It helps me to think, John. I've run out of nicotine patches, so this is the only alternative!" He knew that it wasn't the only other option that he could have.

"You have not run out, Sherlock. I bought you a new packet just yesterday, so you can't try and pull the wool over my eyes that way. Nice try though." John teased angry at his friend, firstly for lying to him about something that was so obvious, secondly because he had gone into his room and invaded his personal space, and thirdly that he was most likely showing off in front of Scarlett to impress her.

"It is impossible to sustain a smoking habit in London, is it not?" Scarlett could see this conversation ending up in an argument, an argument that she wanted to join in on. So she interrupted their little tiff and put her point across.

"Yes it is. Which is very bad news for brain work." Sherlock had now turned towards Scarlett and John, happy that Scarlett had involved herself. Not only because he enjoyed the sound of her voice but because, for once, someone was supporting him in an argument, and that didn't happen very often.

"I can't believe you're taking his side in this." John snapped once again. "Yes. It may be so Sherlock. But, as I've told you once before; it is very bad news for breathing!" He now stood with his hands placed firmly on his hips, eyeing each of his opponents in turn. He was no particularly surprised that Scarlett would side with Sherlock, their 'relationship' was mutual. They both enjoyed competing against each other in terms of intelligence and intellect, however if John started on one of them, they would both support the other even if they knew that their argument was invalid.

Scarlett laughed, "Ha. Breathing. I'm pretty sure that everyone breaths, John. That is why breathing is so boring!" She was starting to like being against John. When she was her full self, before Moriarty had turned up, she had started to enjoy his company and the things he could offer as a friend. Nonetheless, when Moriarty had injected her and changed her mind frame slightly she didn't really care about John and his feelings any more. In all honesty, she didn't care for any one's feelings. But John had ended up on the wrong side of the scale. Sherlock on the other hand, she hadn't changed her thoughts about.

John simply tutted at the pair that stood before him; he didn't want to argue over something as silly as Sherlock smoking. "Fine." He said to them as he walked downstairs to Mrs Hudson.

"Thank you for supporting me I the case against the immoral justice." Sherlock joked, making sure that John could hear him as he left the flat. "Want one?" He held the box in the air and shook it. With a quick nod from Scarlett he threw the box towards her and planted himself in his armchair, hands under his nose. Scarlett pulled out a cigarette and with a quick throw of the box, gestured a lighter. She scanned his body and saw a lighter in his trouser pocket. She didn't care if he minded, she wanted this cigarette and she would light it with or without his permission to take his lighter. She reached into his pocket and tore out the lighter, and lit her cigarette. After a few seconds of breathing in the smoke she let it out again taking the cigarette away from her mouth. She had never smoked before so she savoured the flavour as it left her mouth. Now she was relaxed.

"Why did you text me so many times? You never text me that many times, so what was so important?" Scarlett questioned him, replacing the cigarette to her lips. Sherlock didn't stir for a moment listening to the melody in Scarlett's voice. He also had to remember why exactly, he had brought her back to the flat.

"Oh yes." Sherlock started but before the next words came out Scarlett interrupted.

"Oh, please don't say that you've brought me here to send a text?" Sherlock looked up at her, confused to how she knew that he had once made John do that. It was only one time at the very beginning of their friendship, but John would never forget that he was dragged all the way back to the flat just to send a text to, someone who he hadn't expected; the killer. "Because John told me about that the other day, and personally. I think that you should just have another phone. Either that, or just not post your number online. That would help?!" Scarlett had started to mess with Sherlock. It could have been the cigarette but it was most likely Scarlett's massive intellect. "Or to get your phone out of your pocket? I won't be very happy if it's that either!" Sherlock couldn't believe what John had been telling her. "How lazy are you? Your phone is right there...?" She pointed to the jacket he wore and the lift in it where the phone sat.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and stood up from the chair. "How do you know all of this? Has John been spilling all of this unnecessary information to you?" He knew that it was John, because Moriarty wasn't there at the time to have known all of this stuff.

"He's true in what he says though isn't he." Scarlett walked towards Sherlock and handed him her cigarette. "That was," She paused trying to find the right words so that she would never force herself to smoke again. "Refreshing." Sherlock noticed that she hadn't enjoyed it very much, so took the cigarette willingly. He then pulled out his phone and started to text someone. Scarlett couldn't see who exactly, so she assumed that it was just John. "Do you enjoy texting people and bringing them to your flat when you're just going to waste their time when they could be fulfilling their Bucket List before they leave the World?"

"Do you enjoy watching people why they text and then showing that you truly don't have an equivalent intelligence to myself?" Sherlock smiled sarcastically at Scarlett as her eyes rolled. She didn't have to be here so he made use of the time that he had to insult her. However, he didn't really think that Scarlett had no brain, or even a tiny little barely used one such as John's. He thought that she was almost, not quite, but almost as intelligent as he was. Sherlock walked towards the skull that sat differently on the fireplace to usual. Had John finally removed the camera that sat in there? "Is this what you're waiting for, Scarlett?" He asked her rattling a box next to his head. Scarlett went for the box, but Sherlock simply threw it in the air and caught in in the other hand. He shook his head at her tutting at how simple she obviously thought that he would be in terms of giving it to her.

"Give it to me." Sherlock only laughed at her, he had heard this kind of conversation once before. Would it be a repeat of Irene Adler? No. Scarlett couldn't have Sherlock's riding crop, it was at Bart's. Or was it?

"What are you going to do, beat me with a whip?" Sherlock joked for a few moments. He threw the box to her trying not to damage what was inside. "Here you go. You should have just said please." Sherlock walked towards Scarlett and took her necklace in hand. "Very nice." She tore it back and started to open the box.

"Thank you." Scarlett stopped and looked at the paper that surrounded the box, it was a deep red, the red which was always associated to love or affection interest. "Why such a deep red?" Sherlock sighed wondering if she knew what he was trying to do. "Surely you don't love me." Scarlett was joking now because she knew how much Sherlock actually hated this subject. "Fine I'll just open it shall I?" Sherlock nodded his head towards the small box that was placed firmly in Scarlett's right hand. "Why do you want me to open it so desperately?" She looked Sherlock up and down, he jumped slightly because he was focusing on the box.

"No particular reason. I just thought that you might like to open something instead of the stupid little package that it came in. That's what simple minds want, isn't it. Something to look forward to inside a strip of wrapping paper." Sherlock smiled sarcastically at Scarlett as her eyes squinted. He enjoyed throwing insults at her because he knew that she could most likely say something worse back to him. And he was right this time.

"Simple minds watch while someone opens something and look more excited than the person actually does. You look like you're about to pounce on me and rip the paper off yourself. Does that make you simple minded? I'm pretty sure dear sir." Scarlett's voice was an imitation of how Sherlock had just spoken to her. She too enjoyed annoying the other, it gave her a sense of accomplishment in some ways. She could outsmart Sherlock Holmes. He only turned his head away and rolled his eyes at Scarlett's insult. She started to open it again.

"Oh do take your time." Sherlock said to her. "People are going to die before you open that. Shame I don't care, but those poor people might." Again his smile was sarcastic. Scarlett continued to open it, ignoring his obvious attention seeking.

"Wait," Scarlett said as soon as she saw the contents of the box. It wasn't empty, but it wasn't what she expected either! "What. What is this? Sherlock." A green and blue tinted spray left the box spraying right into Scarlett's face. She stumbled around for a few seconds trying to remind herself of where she stood. "_What_ have you done to me?"

"Let it into your system." Sherlock told her as she stumbled towards him. He pushed his finger onto her forehead causing her to collapse onto the sofa.

"Ugh. I've had enough of sofas." She joked trying to concentrate on remaining awake. She could feel her eyelids closing however, no matter how much she tried to ignore their beckoning. "Is this Mycroft's idea?" She cold see Sherlock's face change slightly, it was only for a moment, but she saw it as clear as day. "I knew it. How bloody typical of you two, eh?" She pushed herself up from the sofa trying to regain her balance like she had before. "I haven't even met him, and I hate him." Sherlock chuckled at her responses to all of this, he was rather enjoying seeing her vulnerable compared to her normal spot-on state.

"That's what most people say about the both of us." Sherlock mumbled before smacking the skull onto the back of her head. John saw Sherlock catching Scarlett in his arms. He had seen her eyes roll backwards and her body start to tumble. He was there just in time. "That and '_piss off_' of course." He laid her body down on the sofa allowing it to flow out. Pushing a piece of hair out of her face, he kissed her forehead and whispered in her ear; "Good luck Scarlett. You'll need it." He then picked up his phone and dialled a number. On the other end there was a low voice which simply said, "Have you got her?" Scarlett was right about whom had asked Sherlock to do this. Mycroft's voice filled Sherlock's ear as he was instructed to wait in the flat. John walked around filled with nerves and questions that wouldn't stop running around in circles in his head. The main one though was, 'What if Moriarty finds out?'.

"Sherlock. Moriarty? What do you think he'll do if he finds Scar like this, hmm?" John was scared and angry, Sherlock could tell that by the way that he talked.

"When did you become such a coward, John? You scaled all of Afghanistan, and now you're wimping out in a flat, in London. Not exactly what I'd call brave!" Sherlock had returned to his normal character now that he didn't have to act in front of Scarlett any more. He didn't apologise to John. Instead he walked back over to Scarlett and held her necklace up. Taking it from her neck he said, "Here. Are these what you were planning on having?" One at a time Sherlock added the three new trinkets to her necklace, with one extra thing. He then replaced the necklace around her neck and stroked her cheek. "Mrs Hudson." He shouted to the woman downstairs. "Open the door for Mycroft and send him up." The doorbell then rang which was followed by three knocks. John looked at Sherlock with a weird eye for a second. "Told you he'd be quick."

_**I hope that you enjoyed that, and thank you for reading. Please R&R. It's always much appreciated! :)**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**Hello once again. Thank you for reading this, and I hope that you enjoy this chapter. It's rather long but I enjoy it. I have to admit that John gets rather angry at the end, so I apologise. But, I think Sherlock deserves it, and you'll see why. Thank you.**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or any of the characters. Well, I own Scarlett, but that's just part of the story line, which also belongs to me. :)**_

_**Chapter 7**_

_**It's started**_

Scarlett didn't know where she was, but it was somewhere cold and white. She was getting rather sick of how many times she was kidnapped but only hoped that it wouldn't happen again. In the middle of the silence that surrounded her was the faint and distinct sound of someone's footsteps; they were getting closer and louder with each second. A man who was slightly taller than Sherlock made himself known to Scarlett by coughing loudly at her. She knew immediately who it was.

"Ah. Holmes brother, the elder. I presume you're Mycroft." Scarlett wanted to sound as though she was as much of an annoying social person to talk to as Sherlock was.

"And your name is Scarlett Hines. You and my brother are perfect for each other, I see what a certain John Watson has been trying to tell me." Scarlett rolled her eyes and looked around for a sign of the other Holmes brother. She could see him standing in the corner with his hands in his coat pockets. John stood next to him with his arms folded. "Oh, don't worry. We've cleared all of that nasty stuff out of your system so you're back to..." Mycroft paused and looked Scarlett up and down. "_Normal_?" He made it sound like a question on purpose seeing how far the conversation could go with her insulting him.

"Can you please stop talking. You sound like your brain is being fuelled by lemons." Scarlett shouted at him, she could hear the faint giggles of Sherlock and John from behind him and started to smile. "Oh what?" She asked Mycroft watching him as he switched his umbrella to his other hand. "Do you not like being taunted by a girl, is that it?" She looked him up and down, his eyes watching hers. "No. It's the fact that you're being over-powered by someone who firstly isn't your brother, and secondly has just been drugged into losing their mind." Her head tilted towards him, she could hear Sherlock and John approach. Scarlett then sarcastically smiled at her friend's brother. Wait. Sherlock a friend?

"I think that's enough, Scar." John told her, finally plucking up and, for the first time, defending Mycroft. Sherlock put his hand in the way of John's path in order to stop him. Scarlett was standing and hanging from what looked like the frame of an upside down bed. Her hands were tied to the top and her feet to the bottom.

She tried to move closer, but the bed held her in place.

"Seriously Mycroft. You should let me down so that I can punch that smug little look off of your face. Oh yes. I know that you're in the Government." Scarlett looked at Sherlock and then returned to her speech. "Actually, Sherlock told me that you're practically the Government. There you go. I can see your ego crawling up your shoulder."

"Stop it." Mycroft snapped.

"It's your shadow, following you everywhere. Destroying your reputation, is it not?" Scarlett chose to ignore Mycroft and continue.

"Stop it!" Mycroft was getting slightly annoyed, especially when he was trying not to show it to her.

"You're not very good at hiding your emotions now are you? Your brother is much better than you at that, I have to say." Scarlett paused and started to look deep into Mycroft's eyes. "In fact, I have reason to believe that Sherlock Holmes is better than you at everythi-" Her words were silenced by Mycroft slapping Scarlett round the cheek.

"MYCORFT!" Sherlock shouted at his brother grabbing him by the wrist and pulling it behind his back. Scarlett laughed, this was exactly what she was hoping for.

"Scar? Oh. You were planning this all along. Typical. I hope you and Sherlock will be _very_ happy together." John had only just caught on that this is what Scarlett had wanted. Both Sherlock and Scarlett looked at each other trying to understand why John had said that to them.

"I agree with full content Dr Watson." Mycroft decided to add to the situation; this resulting in his hand being pulled harder onto his back.

"I think that you should watch your tongue, brother." Sherlock started to pull his wrist harder and further up his back causing Mycroft more and more pain. "You never know when something might... _SLIP_" At 'slip' Sherlock let his brother's hand fall back into place. However it wasn't completely back in place, considering he had just dislocated Mycroft's shoulder. Mycroft's arm fell, causing him to fall also. John walked towards him, as it wasn't Sherlock or Scarlett that needed help, and felt Mycroft's shoulder. However he didn't put it back in place.

Scarlett watched from above with excitement. She was rather enjoying being back to her usual self, it helped to make her forget about other things in her mind. She slipped her hands out one at a time making sure that she had her balance. Sherlock met her in the middle of the commotion over Mycroft's shoulder and had untied her feet. Scarlett hadn't noticed so she went to untie her feet, she was always rather good at getting herself out of sticky situations. When she bent down Sherlock was waiting for her. He picked her up and held her in his arms as if to say that he'd rescued her from some terrible evil. He hadn't of course because he'd allowed her to be put there himself. On the other hand, Mycroft was a terribly evil person to be facing against.

"Thank you." Scarlett thanked him sweetly placing her face very close to his.

"Do you like them?" Sherlock changed the subject quickly pointing his view to the latest editions to Scarlett's necklace. She placed her hand on her necklace lifting it so that she could see what had been added.

"The riding crop. The heart. And the lab coat..." Scarlett paused admiring the pieces that she had bought; also hoping that it would help her remember when she really did start to lose herself. "Wait. What's this?" Sherlock started to carry Scarlett to the door leading out to the police station. "Did you add these?" Sherlock had taken it upon himself to give her a little surprise when she awoke to say 'sorry' for what he had done previously.

"Naturally." Sherlock was still carrying Scarlett as she placed the two letters next to the door so that they were in both her and Sherlock's view. "S can be either for Sherlock or Scarlett. And the H can be for either Holmes or Hines. See. It would make perfect sense for me to get you something that would remind you of yourself as well as me, would it not?" Sherlock smiled at her and then placed her back onto the floor.

"Thank you!" Scarlett beamed brightly at her gift from Sherlock; she loved them and the concept of how he had thought about it. Without warning she pulled Sherlock into a very tight hug, making sure that he couldn't escape. Sherlock, however, took the hug and started to enjoy being nice to someone. Would it make him want to be nice to people more often? No, but Scarlett was worth his attention. Especially after breaking herself out when Moriarty had captured them. He was pretty sure that John wouldn't be able to do that even if he practised.

"You're welcome." Sherlock whispered into her hair as Scarlett let him go. "Now you have a collection of things that will help you through everything." He started walking away but stopped because he couldn't hear Scarlett following him. When he turned around to see her again he watched as she clutched her head. "Are you okay?" He asked her placing his arm around her shoulders.

"Yeah." Scarlett managed to tell him. "I-I think it's just the symptoms starting..." The pain had crept upon her without her realising at first, but now it felt like someone was shooting her in the head with a machine gun non-stop. "I've been expecting this for sometime." Sherlock called out for John but he was too busy trying to help Mycroft. How typical.

"When the headaches start, what does that mean in terms of time left?" Sherlock asked her, he sounded worried by this point.

"Ah." Scarlett started to scream in pain. In her mind she knew that her time was running out quicker than the doctor had anticipated. "A month..." Her words then turned back into screams as her whole body fell down to the ground. Sherlock ran for help in order to stop Scarlett from being tortured by her pain. When he returned John was already helping Scarlett get to her feet. It was obvious to him that her head was still pounding with the most atrocious pain, but Sherlock could only watch as she lost herself.

A few hours later, Scarlett had been checked over by both John and the Doctor in Bart's hospital. Molly had popped by in order to tell Scarlett that she would pass her if it really was ending faster than anticipated. "It's fine Molly, really. I don't need sympathy." Scarlett replied to her trying to keep her calm over the whole situation. When Molly had left Scarlett started to focus her attention to what had caused her tumour to speed up in killing her. Could it have been Mycroft, Sherlock and John bringing her back from Moriarty's power?

"Did you make this happen when you brought me back?" Scarlett still had a slight headache but this one was bearable.

"We don't know, Scar. That's the problem. It could either be our fault, or it could be due to natural causes." John didn't want to get into this conversation but it seemed that he really had no choice in the matter.

"Was my estimation correct? Do I only have a month left?" Scarlett's eyes now contained tears. She wasn't sad for herself, she was sad for the people she would leaving behind. She was thinking about Sherlock, John and Mrs Hudson of course. In some cases she also thought about Jim Moriarty and how she'd just left him waiting. John nodded. "Can I call Jim, please?" Both Sherlock and John's eyes opened wider at her question. They were both confused as to why Scarlett would want to still remain in contact with Jim while she remained alive. After all they had just set her free from Moriarty's control so it would be pointless for them more than her; having their time wasted and everything. "I know what you're thinking. 'Why would she want to call Jim Moriarty'?" Both of the men looked towards each other exchanging the same worried look. "Because, do you know what, he made me feel like I deserved to live in some ways. He was helping me to complete my Bucket List because he kept to his promise of making my life adventurous before I left." Scarlett looked at both of the men who stood before her in turn, deducing them where they stood. "Oh don't look at me like that, Sherlock. I know you're jealous of him, I can see that from your hand. The way it twitches tells me that you're not too fond of my choices." John accidentally let out a small chuckle which caused Scarlett to turn on him now. "Don't be so happy, Doctor Watson. Yes you may have revolutionised this man's life just by walking into it, but that doesn't make you the most important man to everyone." Now Sherlock smiled, he was happy that he was out of the firing line for a moment. "Jim is much like both of you mixed together. He can be kind like you John, most of the time, and he can also be a vicious mad-man killer who could slit your throat as you sleep. Which, personally Sherlock, I think you could definitely do!" Sherlock's eyes rolled because he knew that this topic would come up eventually.

"Have you been speaking to Sargent Donovan be any chance?" Sherlock recognised this tone as one Sally Donovan had used on him many a time in the years that he had known her.

"I don't even know who you are referring to. Now. Phone please, I need to make a quick phone call." Scarlett wanted her phone because her thirst to hear Jim's voice was getting to much. She didn't like him, but his voice was different to the two voices that she had been stuck hearing for the past hour or so. It was mysterious.

"This phone?" Sherlock held up Scarlett's phone shaking it a little. Scarlett nodded viciously at him. Suddenly Sherlock dropped her phone onto the floor and using his foot he smashed it into hundred of pieces. "How about now?" Scarlett's jaw had dropped; how could Sherlock be so cruel? He then stormed out of the room, hands in hair and disgusted at what he had just done. Or so Scarlett imagined it. Once he had left John walked forward and handed her his phone.

"Here. Ring him because I know that it's the best thing I can do for you currently." John seemed upset about the whole situation in general. He had checked her out in complete silence making sure that Scarlett's condition really had sped up. By the end he was sure that Scarlett was right about the time that she had left; overall he couldn't believe it.

Scarlett smiled at him, thanking him through her eyes as she dialled Jim's number into the phone. She could remember numbers and digits easily if she had the right technique, and with Jim's number she most definitely used that correct technique. She let the phone ring, waiting. Finally someone spoke on the other end. "Hello Jim? It's me." She paused and started to explain what had happened. "John has looked me over and has assured me that I won't be any pain when he helps me to die. Yes. A pill I believe." This was news to John's ears because he hadn't planned on helping Scarlett in any way. "I'm very sorry, Jim. I'll spend a day with you, is that okay? I need to say my proper goodbye's to you and I don't think it's fair to both you and I if I do that now over a phone." John could hear Moriarty's distinctive voice almost bellowing down the other end of the call. "Thank you. I-I'll see you Friday then? All my love to you, you deserve it." And with those last words Scarlett hung up. Her eyes were full of tears for most of the call, but Jim had started to shout at her... She hated it. John moved onto the bed next to her and hugged her tightly. "I'm so sorry, John. I didn't mean any of the things I said. Well the bad things any way." John hummed slightly in recognition. "I just thought that they needed to be said so that you'd let me speak to someone else who deserved an apology."

"I know, Scar. Believe me _I_ know." John continued to hug her even when Sherlock came in. Sherlock gave both of them a jealous look when he spotted them sharing a quick moment together. He knew that John had allowed Scarlett to call Moriarty and Sherlock wasn't having that.

"Do you really have to be that small minded and infuriating, John?" Sherlock shouted across the room, unimpressed by his friend's actions. "You had to do one thing and now they're meeting on Friday." John now stood from the bed and walked towards Sherlock in his army manor.

"Do you really have to be such a prick about everyone and everything?" Sherlock's expression didn't change; he was used to this sort of shouting from his parents and Mycroft when he was younger. In response he tilted his head lightly.

"John. It's okay, you don't need to do this!" Scarlett pleaded from the bed hoping that John wouldn't start anything, but she was too late.

"No, Scar. Let me do this. You really have no feelings for any one do you. Actually, you love her and would do anything to save her until the end of your days. 'She's even better than Irene Adler' is what you said to me the other night. Then why don't you tell her because you are seriously losing me in what you're doing, let alone everyone around you. Maybe if you actually gave her a second thought apart from the fact that she's 'interesting' then you could possibly open your eyes to the actual matter at hand, Sherlock." John had a full on temper now and he wasn't prepared to stop any time soon. "You don't deserve her!" He turned towards her. "She deserves someone who will care for her in her last moments and to be honest with you, Sherlock, I don't think you even qualify to get that job role!" Scarlett had been watching from the bed with anticipation. Would Sherlock say anything back? "You know what? I think sometimes I see the most human, human being that I've ever seen in that girl. And I'm not just being nice because she's dying, because that's what she is. She's dying, Sherlock. Can you hear me when I say that to you? _SHE'S DYING!_ And that girl right there does not deserve this. If I could take it away and give the tumour to myself; I would most definitely oblige without even a second of hesitation. But I think that I would give it to you instead because you deserve to die Sherlock..." For a few moments John contemplated what he had just told his friend, but then he began again sure with what he was saying. "You deserve to die in her place. Everyone hates you any way..." John looked as Sherlock as his expression didn't change.

"John-John I think that's enough now." Scarlett tried to cease the shots that were being thrown at Sherlock, after all she cared for both of them.

"You are such a... MACHINE! Why do you do this every time. Look at her! You're losing something very special there. Too bad you're too much of a _freak_ to realise it! Yes I said it, I called you a freak! Because do you know what, Sally Donovan is right when she calls you that. Goodbye." John finished shouting at Sherlock who still stood the same opposite him. John turned to Scarlett and said, "I'm sorry Scar. I'll come and pick you up tomorrow." John left the room.

Sherlock still stood staring where John was standing. "You don't deserve to die, Sherlock. You are the most human, human being that _I_ know and that'll never change to me." Scarlett managed to make a smile on her face. "Come here." She opened up her arms asking him for a hug. And for once in his life, Sherlock accepted without any complaints, that he was a freak. John was right in what he said, and Sherlock knew that.

"I'm sorry Scarlett. I'm sorry that I can't stop this or help you." She hugged him tighter not wanting to let go.

"Oh please don't start. There will be a trend on twitter soon saying '#Sorry you're dying', or a card." She pushed Sherlock away, "Don't you dare get me a 'Sorry you're dying' card!" Sherlock chuckled and looked her up and down.

"What's Twitter?" Sherlock wasn't joking. He had no need to go onto such websites because he didn't care about the little things that other people were over-joyed about. Scarlett laughed and pulled him back in, she didn't want to leave but she knew that her time had come and she had to go.

_**I hope that wan't too bad on John's part!? Does he really mean it? Or does he just love Scarlett? What are your thoughts? Let me know! :) Thanks for reading!**_


	8. Chapter 8

_**I wrote this chapter on the way to Disneyland. Also while I was there and had a short break every now and again. I hope you enjoy it and I apologise for it being soo long. I think I lost track of everything because I was typing so fast. This girl kept watching my Ipad on the train and it was extremely off-putting. She probably doesn't even know who Sherlock Holmes is let alone what I'm writing about. Any way, enjoy! :)**_

_**Chapter 8**_

_**The End is Nigh**_

Scarlett sat in the armchair that was still placed firmly in the residence of 221B, as she watched the life slowly drip from her body. She had asked John whether he could help her to pass in the way which she wanted. Originally she had told him through the phone call with Moriarty, but now John had come to terms with the deeds that she wished for the men to carry out; he agreed that if she wanted to leave before things became to bad for her to manage, then that's what he would help her to do. He couldn't let her go without it being the way that she wanted, for him it didn't feel right to keep her in the torture that was thrust upon her. Scarlett's headaches became increasingly worse and more frequent over the past week, with no painkiller or drug taking away the pain and stopping it from creeping back worse than before. Several times she had also lost vision in one of her eyes, she was hating every second. In more recent time her words had started to slur causing her to lose them completely at moments. Scarlett really was losing herself, although she remained positive about the things her body still allowed her to do.

"Are you sure that you want to end your life in such a trivial way? Surely something more heroic would look better on you later after your death." Sherlock was angry that Scarlett had chosen to not use the time that she had left fully. John sighed at him loudly, signifying how disappointed in Sherlock he was about the way he was acting. Scarlett, on the other hand, didn't mind how Sherlock acted. If he wanted to act as though her death wasn't a big deal, which she thought it wasn't, then that is how she would allow him to act.

"Sherlock. Please don't do this to her. She's dying and all you can say is how she isn't going in, your classification of, a spectacular way." John's voice showed Sherlock that he had not forgiven him from the hospital and still stood by what he had shouted at him while they were there. His mind wouldn't change about him because he thought that, in some ways, Sherlock had made the tumour speed up. If he hadn't have left Scarlett on her own that day when they were returning from Bart's Hospital, then Moriarty wouldn't have been able to kidnap either of them. John included.

"John, really. I'm fine with all of this." Scarlett could talk for now as her voice had returned. She didn't want to die in a spectacular way at all. In all honesty she wanted to die without the pain that her tumour would most likely cause her, so the pills that John had received from Sarah would help immensely. "Sherlock, would you mind giving John and I some space for a bit? I would appreciate it if you did." She looked at Sherlock with pleading eyes, hoping that he would leave immediately. However Sherlock had other plans, he decided that it would be better for him to sit I on their little 'Heart-to-Heart'. After all, what concerned John concerned him, right?

"Sherlock." John shouted at him, but with little success. "You'll have your turn in a moment, after Moriarty has been and seen Scarlett to say goodbye to her." Sherlock's eyes squinted at the thought of Moriarty alone with Scarlett in their flat.

"Why did you allow Moriarty to come into our house, John. It is a place if almost certain safety for us." Sherlock's voice sounded slightly nervous, his face was still trying to hide it though, which confused John greatly.

"Maybe because some people actually care about Scarlett enough to allow her to see a person who failed to turn up when they arranged to see each other. Scarlett wants to see him, so I shall allow it. Is that okay for you, Sherlock? Or is it against the 'Big Bumper Rule Book' that you have in your mind and use only when it affects everyone else around you but yourself." John was angry with Sherlock about everything that he had done in the past week. Sherlock's eyebrows raised slightly as his had tilted; he was trying to imply something to John without Scarlett knowing. "Oh really. You went that low did you?" Scarlett was confused as to what John was saying. She hadn't missed the look, but her mind wasn't as strong as it had been previously. She attempted to stand up and aid John in the discussion, determined to find out what Sherlock had implied.

"What? John what did he do?" Scarlett was now standing in between the men looking at each of them in turn. "You didn't did you?" John nodded as Scarlett's face changed to an expression of disgust. "Did you tell Jim that I didn't want to see him after all?" Sherlock's head fell slightly, he knew that Scarlett would hate him for doing what he did, but he had only her best interests in mind when he did so. "How could you?" Scarlett's eyes were filled with tears now, she couldn't hold back her emotions any more which she thought was good. It would actually allow her to feel something towards someone for once, whether that be love or hatred.

"I know that this may come as a shock to you but-"

"No Sherlock. It really doesn't surprise me at all, if I'm honest. You couldn't leave me to live how I wanted. You had to get involved and think only of yourself." Scarlett was more disappointed in Sherlock than she was upset, even though she had expected something like this to have happened at some point any way.

"Sherlock. You better get out now or I will call Mycroft and get him to use his brutal force. Maybe even Irene Adler could be called. I know that she's dead and everything, yes she was beheaded, but she has seemed to be the only person, apart from me on occasion, that you've ever cared about." Sherlock knew that he wasn't wanted by either of his friends in the room any more, so he started to walk away. "And for the record. I take back what I said in the Hospital about you caring for Scarlett because it's obvious that you don't give the slightest care about anyone but yourself." Sherlock continued to leave taking in the words that John shouted but pretending to ignore them. "Thank you." John mumbled after him.

"John, I think you should know that you mean the World to me. The pair of the you do. Even though Sherlock may be a heartless, evil, annoying, ass hole of a machine that manipulates everyone around him, but I still care about him. I still care for the both of you." Scarlett had returned to the chair, and now John sat opposite her. "You should be glad to hear that I'm happy with my death though it has not yet come about. But that's just useless information right now, let's save that for the funeral, eh? For now I wish to remain positive about the present that we absorb ourselves into." John smiled at Scarlett as her pain started to return. "I-I know that I've asked you to help me do something completely and utterly ridiculous on your part," John nodded in agreement. "but I thank you in any way that I can that may help you to see this through."

John held Scarlett's hand in his and pressed it lightly, making sure that she could still feel his touch. "Scarlett. Can we talk about something other than you dying, please...?" He was hurt by her speech in some ways; nonetheless he enjoyed of her thinking of him.

Scarlett smiled at him with a chuckle almost escaping her mouth. "Of course. Do you want to discuss a tv program or something? I'd-" Suddenly and without warning Scarlett's words stopped flowing from her mouth. Her lips moved as though she was still talking but no words left in their place.

John's head lowered to his chest, it was starting again. "Scar. Take your time and breath." He could see the terror behind her eyes as she looked straight at him. If this happened while Jim visited for the last time, then she wouldn't be able to control the fear that may arise in her actions.

"I-I'm fine. It'd be nice to have a conversation where Sherlock _didn't_ insult our choice in entertainment. You've got to hand it to me, at least I don't watch crappy tell like he does." Scarlett was trying to make John laugh, but also help him forget what was going to happen in the next couple of hours. John laughed at her thoughts, and decided that a program would be the best option for both of them.

"Do you remember that documentary we watched on 'The Life After Death'?" Oh dear. He had brought back round subtly that Scarlett was dying.

"I do indeed, and it got me thinking about what I might expect from the World after I shut my eyes for the last time." Scarlett's view had steered towards the window, she was gazing out at the dark night sky that was upheld there watching it as the World still turned around them. "I like to think that I will become dust that flickers and twirls in the moonlight. I've read about theories of what waits for us and that is the one that I enjoyed the most. The thought of me dancing around everyone as they live on brings me great comfort in death as it that is a rather nice way to live. Not having a care in the World. Dancing and glittering through it all. Yeah, I'd like that. That's how I want it to be when I get there any way. Living on in the dust." Scarlett stopped and looked back at John sitting opposite her. "What is your view on this, I mean, what do you think becomes of her after death?" She smiled at him urging him to give his point of view on the subject.

"What do I think? Well, erm. I don't really know if I'm honest. It could be anything. Maybe we will find ourselves to live and think in a different World. Maybe we reincarnate as something else, which would be good for you as a second chance." But then John paused. He didn't want to say what had came into his head, however he though it only fair that he told her. "In other cases it could just be the darkness. You expect me to have listened to your theory of dancing as dust in the stars and then tell you something as spectacular. Do you want to hear I think there's nothing? Personally Scarlett, I've so many men die, including those I killed myself, I don't believe that there is a heaven. I just think there is darkness and nothing. The never ending strive of nothing. We will just rot underneath the earth as if nothing ever happened." John now looked away from Scarlett hoping that she wouldn't take what he had just told her too hard in her heart.

"I see. I'm surprised that you don't enjoy the thought of something waiting for you, John. It would bring you some comfort... That's why I enjoy the thought of dancing with the stars, because I want to look forward to something that could come out of my death." Scarlett was slightly upset about how John had told her what he was thinking exactly, but in other ways she was happy that he had. She had to prepare for her other visitors somehow. "Thank you John. Can we hug now?" John almost jumped upon her, but managed to hold himself back. To Scarlett his body was warm and inviting. Her body on the other hand was cold and frail. John could feel her heavy breathing as though she was struggling to keep her breathing going long enough to say goodbye. For a couple of minutes or so they continued to hug; not wanting to let the other one leave. They stopped when there came a knock from the door. James Moriarty stood tall and proud in the doorway, hands in the pockets of his slick and classy looking suit. He never failed to impress people in the 'Fashion Department'. Scarlett almost jumped out of her seat to hug Jim as he stood behind her, however she had no strength to do so. "Hey Jim." She beamed at him. He waved separately at each of them in turn and then turned his eyes towards John.

"I'd better be off." John said to them both, he knew that Moriarty said it a lot so was almost kicking himself when he left. He left in an embarrassing fashion for him, hugging Scarlett and giving a quick nod towards Moriarty.

Once John was clear from their voices, Jim said to Scarlet, "He loves you, doesn't he." Scarlett laughed and nodded at him offering him tea, which was most likely cold by now, from the tea pot on the table beside her. He shook his head and started to talk to her as though they were friends. "I'm sorry that I didn't turn up on Friday like we'd planned. A certain Sherlock Holmes phoned me. He told me that I should stay as far away from you as it was possible to do so. I didn't do that of course. I came here everyday and watched you grow weaker everyday." He chuckled slightly, but it wasn't because her situation was funny. No, instead it was because he was actually regretting them meeting. He had to lose her now; they could have been the greatest Criminal Mastermind pair in the World. But all of that couldn't happen any more.

"Oh please don't apologise to me. I've had enough of people telling me that they're sorry that I'm dying and I haven't had a proper chance at life yet. It's getting really rather annoying if you ask me. I'm just glad that you're not saying sorry for that." Scarlett smiled at him before continuing. "I'm also very glad that you came to see me, it would have been easy to just say 'no'. Insult me if you want, it would be different from John's soppy talking."

"You were being soppy towards him though, were you not? It seems only fair that I continue that instead of insulting your intellect or the company you keep." Jim was only joking of course, but inside he felt like he should shout every word that arose to mind at her. Did she deserve it? Jim didn't know.

"I was. How long were you listening to our conversation if you know so much about my social life? I'm sure that John won't appreciate you listening to our _private_ conversation if he ever heard about it."

"Enough." Jim replied, he was cross-legged in the chair opposite her drumming a beat onto his knee.

"Do you know what, Jim Moriarty? You surprise me." Scarlett smiled at him trying to make sure that she didn't anger him in any way. Jim wasn't going to get mad at her though, because that would be the way that she would remember him in her last moments and nobody wants that to be the last thought someone has of you.

"In what way my dear?"

"Someone can have their true feelings and face onto show. You are one of those people who enjoys hiding behind a face so that you look tougher than you truly are. You'll put on an act to everyone to convince them that you are really the person that you say you are, but something inside them allows them to be curious about you. You show everyone that you're an evil criminal who has no heart. Sometimes though I think that inside you are actually a considerably caring person who doesn't want people to know that. Why don't show it more often? Maybe people would strive to find the real you if they knew that this was all an act. It interested me in you, but that's just my opinion! What's your opinion on me?" Scarlett didn't see Jim react on the outside but she knew that on the inside her was most likely screaming to heaven and hell at her.

"I think that you're a young girl who hasn't had much luck with impressing anyone in your life. Your parents despise the sight of you, not that you've done anything to wrong them in any way, you just remind them of your other parent that's all. You can pick out even the smallest parts of a person's character and make it into something that seems better than it actually is. You can, much like Sherlock, deduce a person's life just with your eyes and what you hear. Using your senses allows you to pick at a person and leave them baffled by the story you tell." Jim waited for Scarlett to react but she didn't. Her eyes remained fixed on his, not even rattling or shaking. "You surprise me because you act so calm and tranquil around people even though I know that you despise the sight of them. You too are acting then." He paused again, waiting for a reaction. But none came. "Overall I'd say that you're the nicest person I've ever met. And I will never change my mind on that matter. This made sound soppy, but it's the truth." Scarlett smiled sweetly at the man opposite, she believe every word, although it didn't seem possible to come from his mouth. "We would have been great partners in crime, Scarlett."

"Finished?" She asked him politely trying to remain clam about the situation.

"Indeed I have." Jim replied to her. "In the words of Olly Murs, 'You've got me dreaming of a life that anybody else would die for'. I'm going to miss you some what, Scarlett." He admitted to her.

"I think you should use quotes like that more often. I think that was perfectly placed, and it made you sound more-" Scarlett's words left her again. Jim could see her jaw as it fidgeted trying to push the words out, but it failed. Jim's eyes squinted at her as her lent forward.

"Are you okay?" He concerned for a few moments, but then it then turned into suspicion. "Are you having me on because you know what I can do before you die..." Scarlett shook her head violently trying to convince him as much as she could.

"I-I..." She couldn't even manage a small sentence, now she started to get scared. Her fear showed to Jim which allowed to him to finally understand that she wasn't having him on.

He suddenly realised what was going on; John had warned him about this previously in their phone call. "Come one Scarlett. Try to focus on my words." Jim tried to help her as much as he could, after all his caring side was pulling through to Scarlett from deep inside him. Not many people could actually bring it out of him, but obviously Scarlett could.

"I was t-trying to t-tell you that I t-think you're dynamic..." Scarlett let out a small chuckle knowing that Jim might not have actually have wanted to hear that any way. "You s-should use quotes like that more often. It would boost people's interest in you, Scouts Honour." Scarlett made the three finger salute sign to Moriarty to help boost her joke. To her surprise, Moriarty made the sign back smiling.

"In places such as that, yes?" He asked her taking the offer up. In all truths he was trying to keep her happy for the last time she saw him, Scarlett knew that deep down inside of her somewhere.

"Just try and keep them smug, simple and well placed. I'm sure you'll send Sherlock's brain in a few circles if you used one from a song." Scarlett smiled at him still going on with the idea even though she knew that it was ll just a game. "In example." Scarlett looked around for a few seconds trying to think of a song. Then she started to sing, "Just to register emotion. Jealousy. Devotion. And really feel the part. I could stay young and chipper, and I'd lock it with a zipper, if I only had a heart." Scarlett looked at Jim, he was laughing at her choice of song.

"If I only had a heart? But you do have a heart, and a very big one at that."

"Just think about it and tell me at my graveside." Scarlett wasn't joking any more; the seriousness was shown to him through her tone and way she had told him.

"Do you want to die?"

"I don't know exactly. I feel as though I've lived as much as I can, but now my time has come and I have to accept that I'm going. I'd rather be happy in my last moments than sad or afraid of, what is an inevitable outcome." Scarlett looked Jim up and down a couple of times. "Do you want to?"

"I don't want you to die, that's for sure. I don't believe that we finish when we die, but I do not want to currently, no. I've got more business here to complete and until that's done, my life will not be fulfilled." Moriarty sounded sympathetic towards Scarlett especially because she hadn't expected him to say what he had.

"That is very mystical. Just one moment." Scarlett picked up her phone and sent a text to Sherlock. The text read:

_'Please bring pills when Jim has left. Do not tell John, Jim nor Mrs Hudson because I don't want them here. I've said my 'goodbye' to them. I want you to be the last thing that I see. Thank you. -Scar xx' _

She then looked back at Moriarty. "Will you be at my funeral? I'd like to see you there!" She smiled as if she was grateful for what he would do in the future.

"Why would I not be, my dear? Unless Sherlock has something to say about it..." Moriarty looked up at the doorway and stared at the figure that stood there. "I'd better be off, I'll be back soon." Jim kissed Scarlett on the forehead and then whispered in her ear, "Good luck." He then left the room leaving Sherlock and Scarlett alone.

"Did you bring them?" Scarlett asked as she watched Sherlock sit in the chair opposite her. He placed his hand onto the table and then removed it again. In its place remained two pills. Sherlock nodded his head slightly and then sat back in the chair, legs crossed and hands placed underneath his nose. "Thank you."

"You told me that I was the last person that you wanted to see? Why did you say that, it's obviously not the case." There came a knock from the door so Sherlock grabbed the pills and placed them in between his two long hands.

"Oh hello nan." Scarlett had forgotten all about Mrs Hudson so decided it was better to say good bye to her than not at all. "Sherlock, do you mind?" Sherlock shook his head and left the room once more.

Mrs Hudson ran forward to her granddaughter and hugged her tighter than she's ever hugged anyone in her life. "I couldn't hold back any more." Scarlett hugged back, not with the same strength, but enough strength for Mrs Hudson to notice. "I'm sorry and I love you." Tears crept their way down Mrs Hudson's face.

"Goodbye." Scarlett whispered into her ear and then let her go. "I love you too." Mrs Hudson allowed herself to burst into tears as she walked down the stairs. She made her escape quickly so that she wouldn't cry too much. "I'm so glad that was short." Scarlett mumbled to herself, unaware that Sherlock could hear her.

"That's not very good for her."

"Why do you care? She left on her own accord any way!" Scarlett snapped back at him.

"I don't care about most people. There is only four or five people in this World that I would truly protect with my life. I'm already losing one of the two most important people in my life, I would rather not lose one of the others that I care about at the same time." Sherlock replaced himself back in the exact same position and waited for Scarlett to reply to him. He saw her jaw once more working, but the words had disappeared. "Focus."

"Y-You care about me?" Scarlett chuckled slightly looking towards Sherlock. "I'm guessing Sherlock that John is your other 'special person', and that is not surprising. But why me?" She was surprised by most things that he said about her, but this caught her out entirely.

Sherlock waited a few seconds before replying with a huge smile sprawled across his face. "You complete me, Scarlett. In the month that I've known you, I have been a much happier man. Light has crept into my life more than when John made it brighter, which is truly saying something. You've battled with me to prove that you're better and you never gave up, even up till now. I admire that in a person, surprisingly. You're intelligent, intellectual, interesting, sweet, and overall a fantastic person. I just wish that I'd realised that sooner. I need you here, not lying under the earth. I can't say goodbye to you." Sherlock replaced the pills onto the table and asked, "Now I've told you that I care for you and wish I'd opened up and accepted my feelings earlier, why do you want me to be the last person that you see? Nobody would ever say that me, I doubt even John would be that sympathetic."

"Because, Sherlock. I've never met a man like you, and that's the truth. I know that we've not always seen eye to eye because we've always enjoyed out-smarting each other, but that's what has made this last month so interesting. Thank you, Sherlock. Thank you." Scarlett placed the pills to her lips, pushing them in one at a time. "Half an hour?" She said before sipping dome water and swallowing. Sherlock's eyes squinted with worry, he knew that he didn't want this to happen. But he nodded in agreement as he saw her body almost fall.

"Are you okay?" Scarlett nodded back at him clutching her head. "Come here." Sherlock picked her up as carefully as he could, making sure that she wasn't too limp in his arms. He walked over to the sofa and placed her down.

"Sit with me, please." Scarlett pleaded him, holding out her hand. Sherlock took it willingly and held her head up so that he could sit down under her.

"What would you like to talk about...?" Sherlock had never been in this kind of situation before, so trying to be comforting was a hard task for him to complete.

"Anything, anything at all that doesn't have to do with this sodding situation!" Scarlett laughed at the pain but it was slowly leaving her. "There were three things that I wanted to make sure that I did before this day came. All three were on my Bucket List though, so you can check to see if I'm lying to you, though I assure you I'm not. One was to make a friend. I've never had a friend in my life, so making one before everything ended was important to me. I made four in the end. Mrs Hudson, Molly Hooper, Jim Moriarty and Dr John Watson. They are all great, I don't know whether that's because of the circumstances, but that's fine. I have one at least. The second was to concur my fears. Jim helped me to do that last weeks, and I'm thankful to him for that."

"And what would the third one be?" Sherlock was now curious as to where his name would appear in all of this, he was sure that it would eventually.

"And third, I wanted to fall in love. On the list I put 'Being with someone who tells you that thy love you first' or something along those lines. You told me first." Scarlett smiled up at him looking into his icy-blue eyes as she spoke. He held her head and stroked her cheek as she spoke trying to comfort her as much as he saw possible. "Are you not going to insult me about emotions or how worthless they are? The normal Sherlock Holmes would do that. What's changed?"

"No." Sherlock was still trying to come to terms with what was happening in his lap, so he hardly spoke.

"Please talk to me... I-I want to hear your voice." Scarlett had started to lose herself for the last time, her sight going first. Sherlock's voice would help her to cope.

"Scarlett, I know that you think I enjoy talking, which I do, but in this moment specifically... I don't know what to say to you. Nothing will mean anything." Sherlock hadn't realised it, but tears fell down his cheeks. His pale skin shimmered a bit while they fell.

"Everything means... Something. Even if... It's made... By you..." Scarlett's voice had turned into a whisper, she was leaving and Sherlock knew it.

Sherlock whispered into her ear just before he watched her take her last breath, not knowing exactly what he'd said. He kissed her forehead and then moved out of the way of her head. He allowed it to tilt as he left her laying on the sofa. "John." Sherlock moved into the kitchen and washed his hands for the next part of his plan. "JOHN!" He then appeared back in the room. John also appeared moments later worried about what he might hear.

"Sherlock? Is everything okay, Sherlock?" John ran straight into the room and saw Scarlett's body lying lifeless on the sofa. "Scarlett!" He checked for a pulse, but was unsuccessful.

Sherlock walked behind John and placed one hand on his shoulder, the other on his own head. "She's gone... I was too late. She must have taken the pill when I went to the toilet."

"She wouldn't have gone that quickly Sherlock!? How did she even get hold of the pills? They were in my pocket, I was sure of it." Sherlock looked John up and down.

"You must have left them here with her, John. She most likely took them after you left, so there would be no suspicion. We were, erm, sitting on the sofa and talking. But then I needed the toilet, leaving her alone." Sherlock had planned this story when Scarlett had originally sent him the text about the pills.

"Hello, can I speak to DI Lestrade please? No I can't wait, it's _IMPORTANT_!" John was already on the phone to let Lestrade know the situation had sped up. Sherlock didn't listen to John's conversation over the phone for once. It was more like shouting at someone who wouldn't listen any way. Instead he knelt next to Scarlett and stroked her cheek. Something inside of him told him that she was still alive, but the inevitable truth is that she wasn't. What could he do now, but let her go? She had caused so much friction between Sherlock and John, all he wanted to do now was hug him tighter than he had done to anyone before. He wanted his best friend back.

_**I hope that it didn't drag too much. And I hope that you enjoyed reading it. Thank you. :)**_


	9. Chapter 9

_**Hello again. Thank you for following, if you are. If not, then that's fine as well. Here's the next chapter after that last one that was extremely OOC on Sherlock's part. Any way, I hope that you enjoy this new chapter. Two 'new' characters appear in this one. Enjoy. :)**_

_**Chapter 9**_

_**The 'Funeral'**_

Scarlett's funeral wasn't as quiet as she had wanted it. Her parents were not attending due to Scarlett's constant nagging about how much she didn't want them to say goodbye to her; it's not like they would care any way. Sherlock and Lestrade had originally invited a few officers from the Police Force, and with much debate every single officer that worked at Scotland Yard attended, including Sally Donovan and Anderson. Sherlock and John sat at the front of the church acting as the 'Chief Mourners' with Moriarty placed next to them. He had two guests with him, one of which both John and Sherlock recognised. It was Irene Adler, she was still alive?

At the Reception after the coffin had been lowered into the grave, Irene Adler walked over to the men with her companions at her sides. "Hello Mr Holmes. Wonderful to see you again." She held out her hand towards Sherlock, making sure that John saw that his eyes were not deceiving him.

"Irene Adler. But you're dead. Mycroft told me that you were beheaded." John continued to look confused as Sherlock stared at Irene, she stared back. "He even said that it would take Sherlock to fool him" Sherlock's eyes started to widen, he was trying to hint to John that it was him that saved her all of those months ago. "a second time... Wait. Sherlock, please don't tell me that you went and saved this woman, 'The Woman', from certain death? You saved her!"

"Less of the 'her' if you don't mind. Some people have names and would prefer if you stick to those proper names." Irene was playing in dangerous territory now, she knew that both John and Sherlock were on edge about Scarlett's death so she tried to keep the flirting to a minimum. "This is my friend," She pointed to the taller lady next to her who smiled bravely. "Marie Kingston. We're very old friends." Marie looked slightly familiar to both of the men, but they chose to forget about it and give the girl their hands.

"Sherlock Holmes."

"Hello."

"John Watson. Dr John Watson." Marie shook both hands politely.

"It's great to finally meet you. Jim and Irene have told me all about you and your..."

"Disputes. Battles. Wars. I'm pretty sure that the company you keep would call our meetings something 'interesting' like that, even though they are none of those things." Marie looked baffled.

"Well I was going to say 'adventures', but those are good too." Marie was smiling a lot at Sherlock, making sure that he noticed her. "I would really like to meet with you sometime and see you at work, both of you." She received different looks from all four of the people around her. Irene was too focused on revenge for Sherlock, after he'd cracked her phone and broke her heart. Granted he had saved her life, but she could still beat him if she wanted to. Sherlock's look wasn't a look as such, he just watched with a blank expression not revealing anything to her. Moriarty was more 'worried' about what they might do now that they were this close to him. John on the other hand looked excited and inviting towards her, she could see that he liked her, that was obvious. "Well, see what we're up against." Marie now had an evil grin on her face watching as Moriarty and Irene laughed at the men opposite. Sherlock and John looked at each other with the same glance, disgust. "Oh I'm sorry for your loss. Blah. Blah. Blah..." Marie walked away from the group and towards the refreshments, not even glancing back at them.

"She is extremely annoying." Sherlock said to John as they walked away from Irene and Moriarty. "Does she seem familiar to you? Oh no, you weren't paying attention to that. You were more flustered about how 'amazing' she looked." John rolled his eyes.

"I was about to ask the same question."

"I would say 'great minds think alike', however my brain is superior to yours in every way. Mine is still an engine, John. It continues to work even when I'm not. Meanwhile yours is probably on holiday, it's still barely used any way so it wouldn't surprise me." Sherlock continued to walk towards the punch bowl while John stopped.

"Excuse me? Take that back!" John demanded.

"Why should I? I speak the truth to you, is that so wrong?"

"Well yes, actually. Especially when it hurts." John walked forward and looked at something that Sherlock was holding. "What's that? A letter from whom?" He tried to grab for it but Sherlock pulled it away and placed it in his pocket.

"Oh. It's nothing. Why don't you go and mingle? That's people do at funerals, isn't it. Cry and mingle with people that the deceased knew but you have no record of even seeing them. Go on then. Mingle. I'll be right over here talking to Marie." Sherlock wanted John gone because when Marie shook his hand, she left a note for him:

_'Meet me next to the drinks in 5 minutes.' _Her handwriting also looked familiar to Sherlock, but he continued to ignore it.

"I'm here." Sherlock ensured that he made Marie jump when he approached her. "What do you want to talk about so desperately?" Marie looked him up and down.

"We shall need to go to the toilet for that. There is something that I need to show you and that is the most private of places to do so. Will you follow?" Marie started to walk towards the ladies room looking behind her as she hoped Sherlock would follow. He rolled his eyes, took a sip from his drink and then followed her.

"If you're trying to 'get with me', then I'm afraid that I might have to- What are you doing?" Sherlock watched as Marie removed a pair of green lenses from her eyes. She then pulled out a set of false teeth and chucked them into the sink. Next was the hair, a wig instead of her natural hair. Sherlock started to recognise her more and more, still waiting until the end result. Next off was the nose; a false nose leaving a smaller one in its place. She then pulled back a piece of skin from her ears to her mouth, allowing her chiselled cheekbones to show. Lastly came the eyebrows which she tossed into the sink along with the rest of her disguise. "You're still alive then."

"Do you really think that I would allow myself to die? We've still got to prove who's better, let alone all of the other things that I've still got to do with my life. I couldn't just give that up." Scarlett stood before Sherlock now, not Marie. He was surprised that she would be able to pull something like that on her own. "I also wanted this back." She held her necklace full of trinkets in front of Sherlock, a new unicorn had been added, but Sherlock wasn't interested in that.

"You still have the tumour I presume?" Scarlett nodded and walked towards him placing her hands on his cheek. Sherlock flinched slightly but allowed her to continue.

"Yes, I still have this bloody tumour." Scarlett placed his other hand on her head and rubbed. "Do you know how I did it?" She questioned him, Sherlock only shook his head at her, intrigued by how she had managed to outsmart him. "With a little help from some friends of mine.

"First of all we needed Molly's help. She wasn't too hard to get by. Irene and I snuck into the morgue whilst Jim distracted her. It's all rather clever really. We found someone of roughly the same weight as me and looked almost the same and took her away, locking her in a separate fridge. She's in the coffin at the moment having a dug out time. Any way. Next we needed Sarah. I told him Jim over the phone that I would be taking a pill to kill me, which he noted. All he Irene had to do was disguise themselves and swap the pills. These ones wouldn't kill me they would only knock me clean out for a few days or so, that I was happy with. No pain and no worrying about everything around me for a short period of time. That's all I really wanted when I agreed to all of this; a break from all of the crap. Sarah gave John those pills and then you took them from him in order to fulfil my last request for you. Typical. When I was 'dead', the next few steps were not that hard. I was left I the fridge for a few days and then Jim and Irene came an 'stole' me. In fact, they woke me up and saved me from being buried alive. All we had to do in the end was make sure that nobody saw my double before she was placed in the coffin. So what did we do? Pretended to be the men who pick up the bodies and that was sorted." Sherlock stood opposite Scarlett still intrigued by what she was telling him. "I've been staying with them for a few weeks before I move on to Cornwall to live out my next two years in sorrow."

"How did _you _get them to help you, exactly? They wouldn't do that for just anyone."

"Jim is a Consulting Criminal, he helps people for a living." Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Irene Adler is a 'friend' of yours, she knew that you liked her and that we could use you. She also knew that you would like me. She taught me all of the basics when I was on board the train."

"Ah. The train was your meeting place, of course."

"Yes. They originally wanted to kill me. Seems things turned out different, eh?" Scarlett moved closer to Sherlock making sure that he could hear her whisper. "The best part is what they offered me in return. Well, I had to something for them in order to live and that part isn't too difficult." Sherlock looked above Scarlett's hair, still listening but uncomfortable with the distance that she decreased between them.

"And what would that be? Robbing the Crown Jewels, Moriarty has attempted to do that. Sleeping with someone to get information, Irene Adler has most likely done that." Scarlett couldn't believe how thorough Sherlock was going into this. "Those seem like things that the 'Man Man' and 'The Woman' would get someone to do, considering their past trips with me."

"Oh no." Scarlett moved even closer into Sherlock's body. "Distracting you so they can kill John Watson." Sherlock's head rose and looked towards the door. There was a sudden and well timed gun shot from outside. He tried to move, to run and help, but Scarlett clung onto his arm. "Oh you can't leave." Sherlock looked straight into Scarlett's eyes and watched as they changed colour. Instead of her normal elegant colour, they were now a bright blood coloured red.

"What?" Sherlock was still trying to pull away but Scarlett had the most amount of strength that he'd ever seen a human being have. Her head tilted to the side as Sherlock continued to struggle against her.

"My masters." Scarlett's voice sounded as if she were a robot, there was a second voice speaking through her. "Moriarty." Sherlock turned around to see a hooded figure standing behind him, holding a knife in his left hand. He walked towards Sherlock slowly, allowing Scarlett to garb Sherlock around his arms so he couldn't move.

"Scarlett, why are you doing this?" The figure continued to walk forwards making sure that the knife would hit Sherlock in exactly the right place so that he would die, but slowly and in lots of pain.

"Goodbye." As the knife placed itself on Sherlock's shirt, he managed to struggle his way out, making sure that both of them would end up on the floor. Instead of angry about Sherlock not being dead, both of them laughed hysterically.

"What? What are you laughing at? Tell me!" Sherlock picked up the hooded figure and removed his hood. His thoughts were correct, it was Moriarty and he continued to laugh at Sherlock.

"The blade was covered in poison, Sherlock." Sherlock looked confused for a second.

"So?" Sherlock then saw the deep bleeding cut that was placed on his right hand perfectly. He then watched as the other two rose from where they sat.

"You'll die any way. Enjoy death." Moriarty ran from the bathroom leaving Sherlock alone on the sink side with Scarlett.

"You should learn to trust the right people." Scarlett left after saying this, without another word leaving her mouth.

Sherlock cried out in pain. "Ah... John!" He started to fell the poison creep through his body slowly. It would be slow and painful for him, and he knew it. Mycroft never managed to get the control over Scarlett that Moriarty had over her, out of her system. That was obvious. Sherlock stumbled a few times but managed to make it outside of the toilet, everyone was crowded around a body that lay half dead on the floor. "John?"

"Sherlock! John had been shot, but we need you to stay away!" Lestrade met Sherlock before he could he could get to his friend on the floor. "Where have you been?" Sherlock's whole World started to turn around him, his eyes blurring and his balance deteriorating.

"I-I need to get to John..."

"Sherlock, are you o-" Lestrade's voice stopped in Sherlock's ears. He fell to the ground next to John, everyone now fussing around both of them. Their hands lay next to each other, almost touching. To everyone around them, it looked as though they were reaching for each other, John most certainly was. However, everything in Sherlock's mind and body went black...

_**There you are. I hope you enjoyed that as much as I enjoyed writing it on the train home from Disneyland. There were lots of kids screaming so I turned my music up really loud in my ears, I don't think the parents appreciated it though. Thanks for reading. :)**_


	10. Chapter 10

_**Hello once more. I have to say that I sadly do not own Sherlock or 'Hallelujah' so... Did you see the trailer? Oh my god! Thank you for reading and sticking with it. I applaud you. Enjoy this last chapter! :)**_

_**Chapter 10**_

"_**I'm back..."**_

"_I've heard that there was a secret chord_

_That David played, and it pleased the Lord_

_But you don't really care for music, do you?_

_It goes like this_

_The fourth, the fifth_

_The minor fall, the major lift_

_The baffled king composing hallelujah_

_Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah._

_You faith was strong but you needed proof_

_You saw her bathing on the roof_

_Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you_

_She tied you to her kitchen chair_

_She broke your throne, she cut your hair_

_And from your lips she drew the hallelujah_

_Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah._

_Maybe I have been here before_

_I know this room, I've walked this floor_

_I used to live alone before I knew you_

_I've seen your flag on the marble arch_

_Love is not a victory march_

_It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah_

_Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah._

_There was a time you'd let me know_

_What's real and going on below_

_But now you never show it to me, do you?_

_And remember when I moved in you_

_The holy dark was moving too._

_And ever breath we drew was hallelujah_

_Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah._

_Maybe there's a God above_

_And all I've ever learnt from love_

_Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you_

_It's not a cry that you can hear at night_

_It's not somebody who's seen the light_

_It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah._

_Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah."_

Scarlett had started singing to Sherlock hours ago hoping that it would help t wake him up, but with little success. However, the last song- Hallelujah- that she sung had managed to help him stir slightly. "Sherlock, I'm sorry for what I've done to you, and John. I hope that someday you can forgive me." She then kissed his forehead, pulled her fingers through his hair and left the left.

An hour later, DI Lestrade came to visit. "Come on Sherlock, we need you for this case." He looked at the nurse who stood next to the bed as she shook her head.

"Even that doesn't seem to help him, believe me. I've tried it many times Greg. I'm sorry." The nurse then left Lestrade alone with Sherlock who still remained motionless on the bed in front of him.

"John wants to see you. They're not allowing him to do so because he's not in perfect shape either. He was shot, do you remember? Irene Adler and Jim Moriarty cornered him, and then the next moment he was on the floor. It was all a bit of a blur if I'm honest. They fled of course so we didn't get them." Lestrade moved closer towards Sherlock and placed his hands in his pockets. "Seems they got to you too. You came blundering over to me, I held you back and then you just collapsed. What was it, eh? I know that you remember, Sherlock."

"Poison, on the blade." Sherlock sat up quickly as if he was awake the entire time.

"Oh. Hello. I mean, what? Poison?"

"Yes, on the blade. Didn't you hear me?" Sherlock was already agitated by Lestrade's incompetence.

"What blade? There was no blade?" Lestrade looked confused as ever. He never knew what Sherlock was going on about exactly, it was like the pink suitcase from 'A Study in Pink' all over again. Sherlock raised his hand to show Lestrade the cut on his hand that still looked deep on his skin. "They never told us that was from a blade, Sherlock." Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"That's because people don't think. Moriarty attempted to stab me with a blade, but failed. Instead, he managed to cut my hand which meant that the poison he had placed onto the blade would flow into my system and around my body. He then fled with 'The Woman' who had just shot John and then both made it away. No thanks to you." Sherlock explained everything in small detail so that he knew Lestrade would understand.

"What about their third guest? Was she involved in all of this? You have to remember that this all took place at the funeral of Scarlett Hines." Lestrade was writing everything down as evidence for future enquiries.

"Ah. Yes, the third musketeer, so to speak. I remember her clearly. Her name was Marie Kingston and she had been living with the other two for a couple of weeks. She took me into the bathroom and revealed herself as..." Sherlock paused and tried to remember, but the memories hurt. "I don't remember who she was exactly, but she held me back." Lestrade tried to hold the laughter back. "Something funny?"

"She held _you _back? Haha." Sherlock rolled his eyes at Lestrade's response.

"Yes. She had been given super strength I believe, as she was under their control. I saw her eyes turn red. And not just the iris, the whole eye was a pool full of blood." Sherlock's description was vivid in Lestrade's mind. He could picture a woman standing opposite Sherlock with her eyes gone and replaced with blood that flowed down her cheeks like a waterfall.

"Right... Right. I'm going to go and file this and then I'll be back." Sherlock chuckled, noticing that Lestrade could see worse of the girl than she actually was. "See you."

"Scarlett Hines' funeral, eh?" Sherlock mumbled to himself. "Good on you girl." He did in fact remember the girl that held him back, it was Scarlett and he could forgive her. There came a knock from the door. "If I know you and don't like you, then please be kind enough to piss off!" John walked into the room with a limp. Sherlock smiled and attempted to get out of bed.

"Ah. No. I'll come over to you; I don't want you hurting yourself when you've only just woken up." John continued to limp over to the bed but it got increasingly better. "Psychosomatic limp again." He placed himself on top of the bed and smiled at his friend. "I'm so glad I got to see you again. I was scared as hell. The can heal a 'War Wound' as they call it. But you had poison in your system which they could have quite possibly not have not got out."

"I was injured less than you, John. Let's try and not make it such a big thing." Sherlock was back to his normal nature already, which worried John slightly. "It wouldn't have killed me any way, Scarlett made sure of that." John looked confused as his eyes squinted.

"Scarlett Hines? But she's-"

"Dead? Well yes and no. I'll explain it all to you over coffee later on, but she somehow managed to switch the poison making sure that it put me into a deep enough coma that would take ages to get the poison out, just like the actual version. I believe that this poison in my body was a liquid version of the pills she took a few weeks ago." Sherlock looked John up and down. "Did I tell you that I took the pills from you, gave them to her, held her in my arms as she 'died' and then made up the whole story just so you wouldn't go off on one of your rants about caring?" John now looked slightly angry, "Apparently not." Without Sherlock expecting it, John pulled him in for a hug, making sure that it was tight so that he knew they were both still alive. "What's this for?" Sherlock hugged back.

"Everything. I thought I'd lost you. A lady comes in everyday to visit you, she sings and then she leaves. Today she sung for three hours straight. She occasionally took fifteen minute breaks to have a drink and talk to you, but her voice was amazing. She just sung 'Hallelujah' to you, and it was the most beautiful version that I've ever heard." John had drifted his stare off into the distance. He obviously enjoyed picturing her voice singing to him in his ears.

"John. I think you should know that Scarlett is the woman who helped to 'kill' you." John's head tilted in question. "Oh yes. She was distracting me so that I couldn't help you. She was Marie Kingston." John's eyes became wider as he acknowledged what Sherlock telling him.

"But how did she survive her tumour?" Sherlock pressed the red button that by the side of his head. "_What_ are you doing?"

"Nurse, would you mind bringing us some coffee please? I promised my friend here that I would tell him something over coffee. So to tell him that I need the coffee, please." The nurse left and within a few moments brought back back the coffee. "Thank you, you may leave." She did as she was told. "She's one of Mycroft's women, I don't want her listening to this."

"So how did she do it? How did Scarlett Hines survive?" John was curious as his friend hadn't even hinted a single clue towards him.

"With a little help from the Consulting Criminal and 'The Woman'. They sat next to her on the train, they were going to kill her in fact, when they found her train ticket. She was heading straight to London as her stop, so they questioned her. They then looked through her phone and found messages from Mrs Hudson; one in particular catching their gaze:

_'You're looking for a man that goes by the name of John Watson. He should be waiting underneath the clock, so look out for him.'_

Your name they recognised so they obviously thought that they could use her to get to us. They had also found Scarlett's not about having two and a half years to live. Yes, two and a half years. They created a new one which read seven months and made sure that she knew their plan. She would get close to us, then her I would have a 'fallout', which is followed by both of you being kidnapped. Scarlett then gets injected with a mysterious liquid that 'takes her over', but in fact. The liquid just activated a different liquid that was already in her system. They most likely spiked her drink with it on the train. This meant that Scarlett went on without any record of it, thinking that she was dying in those seven months. Then when Mycroft got hold of her, Moriarty and Irene Adler made sure that the symptoms would speed up as to convince both us and Scarlett that it was really happening. She didn't remember what was happening until she was awoken in the morgue by her two accomplices a few days later. She was then told what she had to do to stay alive and that was to become Marie Kingston." John had been listening carefully making sure that he understood every part of what happened. "I believe that she heard the plan and then decided that she would take it upon herself to swap the poisons in order for me to survive."

"So where is he now?" John looked puzzled once more, but at least he had followed Sherlock's speech for once, it was usually hard to; the speed that he spoke at.

Sherlock stood up and walked to the door, placing his hand on the handle. "Right on the other side of this door." He pulled the door sharply making sure that the woman who stood there fell in. "Hello Scarlett. Would you like some coffee? Of course you would." John looked the woman up and down, it was the woman who would sing to Sherlock often.

"Wait. You're Scarlett Hines?" John turned to Sherlock and looked as he smiled greatly.

Yes John. Hello. It is I. How did you know I was standing outside?" Scarlett pulled her wig off and took out the teeth. This disguise was much simpler than Marie Kingston.

"It was quite simple really..." Sherlock began.

"Oh, let me guess. You could hear me breathing? Or you planned this conversation out perfectly so I would fall in at the right time?" Sherlock looked curious.

"Actually, I saw your shadow against the curtain, but that's fine as well. If that entertains you enough for it to be the truth, then think I used one of those." Scarlett looked back at the curtain on the door and chuckled slightly. John looked as confused as he did when Sherlock flirted with someone. It just wasn't natural, but he seemed to be able to do it better than John himself.

"Yes, okay. Flirt all you like, but when I've left the room if you don't mind. There's two versions of Sherlock Holmes in the room now and if I'm honest, it is really rather annoying." John stood up and started to walk perfectly, if not for the clutching on his side where the bullet had hit. "Goodbye, you truly are 'The New Woman'..."

Scarlett ignored John and moved towards Sherlock, he turned toward her as she did so. Without her expecting it, Sherlock picked Scarlett up and placed her onto his lap. "Hello."

"Hello Sherlock. I'm back again."

"As am I, which is good because I've got a lot to do with the police still. Lestrade told me that there was a new case everyday. Well, three times everyday to be exact. He was always very insistent in his words." Sherlock moved closer into Scarlett, her placing her arms around his neck. "I've missed our little games."

"And I have missed you; it's been hard pretending to be someone else who isn't supposed to love you as much as I do." Scarlett smiled again at him.

"Well, you're going to have to continue." Sherlock almost threw Scarlett off of him. "Sorry." Scarlett looked at him with a sad expression.

"But I helped you to survive, surely that's something?" Sherlock shook his head at her.

"John has save my life many times, always making sure that I know he's alive when he does so. I can't think of a worse thing to do than to save someone by pretending to die. It just doesn't seem right, I'm sorry that you have to hear that from me." Scarlett was almost in tears as he spoke to her, so Sherlock gave her a sarcastic smile.

"Fine. I'll be better off without you any way. It'd be better for the both of us, but mostly me of course. I won't have to live out the rest of my days being compared to such a freak, as you." Scarlett stormed out of the room making sure that the door slammed. John entered moments later.

"What the bloody hell was that all about?" John pointed towards the door, he was talking about Scarlett looking as though she was about to cry herself to death. Sherlock didn't answer, he was too busy reading a note that was placed firmly in his long hands. "Sherlock!"

"Hmm..."

"Scarlett just stormed out of here, can you please tell me why." Sherlock looked up at his friend.

"In your terms of words, John, we broke up. She helped and attempt to kill us both, so I decided that love would continue to be a hideous distraction. Especially if I were to love her. Is that so wrong of me?" John shook his head with a smile. "Good."

John chuckled slightly, "You were together? Wow."

"Technically, yes. But in theory, no. Is that funny to you?"

"Are those not the same thing?" Sherlock shook his head slightly.

"Oh, John. I continue to envy you. Your brain is still placid and barely used..." Sherlock paused and thought for a bit.

"What? Why didn't you continue until I had reacted? That's not like you."

"Mine is also unused. We need to get on a case _right _away!" Sherlock jumped out of bed. "It's too QUIET!" He flew out the door grabbing his coat at the end of the bed, and almost dancing down the corridor.

"Where are we going?"

"To see Detective Inspector Lestrade, he has a few cases for us to unpuzzle. Don't mind do you?" John stopped and looked at what he wore.

"We are leaving the hospital, in _hospital _clothes?" Sherlock stopped listening and looked at the note again. Scarlett had two in her hand when she entered the room, she then left one in Sherlock's hand before leaving herself. "What does it say?" John made Sherlock jump slightly.

"_We shall meet again Mr Holmes. And this time, it'll be for the last time. -The Poisoned Woman xx"_

"Oh how poetic," Sherlock screwed the piece of paper up and threw it into the bin. "no thank you." He then stopped and looked at both himself and John's attire. "This way." Sherlock ran into a small room and found both his and John's clothes.

"Sherlock, what are you _doing_?" John shouted at him.

"We need to change, John. You said it yourself, we can't go and see Lestrade without being fully clothed. I tried that with the Queen, remember. And look how that turned out?" There was a few moments of silence before both men broke out in a chorus of laughter.

"Oh yes. Do _not_ do that _ever _again!" John smiled. They were happier together than apart. What happened to them when a woman had walked into their life would _never _be talked about again. That was a _promise_.

_**I guess I'll see you around then, because this is where it ends. If you haven't seen the trailer then a) How have you not seen it and b) Watch it! Thank you and I hope you have a nice week!**_


End file.
